Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom
by Drogna
Summary: The COG is reduced to a remnant of civilization on Azura and a settlement at Anvil's Gate. Whilst rebuilding, Baird is injured and left with a long recovery. Delta do their best to help and Sam wonders if she likes Baird more than she thought. But Prescott left secrets behind on Azura, and the Stranded are still out there. Will Delta get their brave new world?
1. Chapter 1

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: This is set a little while after the end of GoW3, but is a sequel to my other fic "Saving Corporal Baird". Whilst we don't know the exact details of the COG calendar, Bloom is probably the 5th month of the year but they probably also have different national days. The title just seemed to work.

* * *

Corporal Damon Baird's workshop was any mechanic or engineer's wet dream. It had taken him a few days after the final destruction of the Lambent to locate a suitable area for him to use as his workshop, but he'd chosen carefully. It was a building away from the main tower, but close enough that he could walk back to the centre of the island. It had large rooms with double doors that were clearly supposed to admit vehicles. There were even lifts and inspection pits, suggesting this was where vehicle maintenance was done on Azura or perhaps where new military vehicles were developed. There were also areas that looked as if they'd been technical labs of some kind. It was well stocked with tools, computers and machinery that would help him in his work. In short, it was perfect.

Lieutenant Anya Stroud knew that they were going to be requiring Baird's skills a lot in the days to come, so she'd been one hundred percent behind Baird finding somewhere suitable to set up shop. As Stroud had ended up in charge of the logistics of the island of Azura, no one questioned Baird grabbing the entirety of a small building as his own. Plus, Baird was Delta, and Delta had just helped to save the planet. People were predisposed to letting him get away with things, and it wasn't as if they were short on space.

Baird's workshop was where he worked, slept and occasionally ate. He had a room assigned to him in the main block of Azura's palatial accommodation, but he preferred crashing out in the small side room that he'd designated as his office. It felt much more like home than the fake grandeur of the rest of Azura's living quarters.

Azura had been a top secret military base, home to the world's best scientists and thinkers. They had lived in luxury whilst the rest of the planet went to hell, fighting more and more hopeless battles against ever increasing opposition. It was supposed to be an impenetrable fortress, protected by an artificial storm called a Maelstrom Barrier, but the Locust Queen had found a way in. Things had gone badly for the inhabitants from that point onwards, but Delta had found their way to the island and Sergeant Marcus Fenix had personally killed the Locust Queen. Unfortunately his father, Adam Fenix, had been the lead scientist on Azura and whilst he'd been kept alive by the Queen so that he could continue his research, his own final solution to the Lambent problem resulted in his death.

One of the last things that Marcus' father had said to him was that he should make a go of it with Anya and embrace the new dawn. So Marcus had taken that pretty seriously and he and Anya had set up a small council of advisors, including Baird, to get things moving. That had been several months ago now and despite the fact that they were no longer at war, the pace of life hadn't slowed for Baird one bit. Rebuilding a war torn population took time and resources; the first they had in plentiful supply, the second considerably less so.

Baird's days were currently spent trying to keep the existing vehicles and technology that they had running by cannibalising other things to get parts and materials. Salvage was valuable stuff on the island of Azura and none of it would be wasted. He had generators that wouldn't run on dead imulsion and vehicles that, in less desperate times, he'd have scrapped but couldn't because they were all that they had. There were ships that needed maintenance and communications equipment that needed constant, careful nursing to make it work. Keeping in contact with the mainland and the other remnant of the human population at Anvil Gate was one of the ways that they still knew that they were some kind of civilization.

This was one of the reasons that Baird's workshop looked like a cross between a scrapyard and the lab of a rocket scientist. They had one man on the island who could work on both Armadillo's and radio equipment and that was Baird. He had a few assistants who'd been working in the motor pool, or as engineers on board a ship, but no one could invent new ways of using old technology like Baird could. No one had his sharp mind or genius for technical problem solving.

Anvil Gate had promised to send some more of the Engineering Corp to Azura, but they couldn't really spare the manpower either. They also had a larger civilian population to take care of and therefore Hoffman was loath to lose them to the smaller outpost on Azura. So Baird's days were full. He delegated what he could and there still weren't enough hours in the day.

He knew things were bad when he greeted the news that a supply of coffee had been found in the kitchen's stores with undisguised joy and a good measure of relief. He'd really missed coffee and it would certainly help him to get through the all-nighters that he'd regularly been pulling ever since his workshop opened its doors. His team of mechanics and engineers even went as far as to steal a coffee machine from one of the common rooms, they regarded it as that important. It was installed in a corner of the workshop, and no one said anything about its disappearance within earshot of Baird's team. That was just the way things were if you continued to want hot water in the showers and hot food on the table.

Today, Baird was on about his fifth cup of coffee and up to his elbows in the guts of a Packhorse when Augustus Cole strode in through the open doors.

"Hey, baby!" shouted the former Thrashball star. "You got plans for lunch? 'Cos I haven't seen you in the Mess Hall for a couple of days."

"Yeah, the last Packhorse on the island died and I'm still trying to resuscitate it," said Baird. "I haven't had time to stop." His traitorous stomach growled despite himself at the mention of food. He'd grabbed a ration pack at some point over the last couple of days but he couldn't remember exactly when.

"Yeah, well you won't do anyone any good by dropping dead from starvation," said Cole. "Get your ass down here."

"You're not the boss of me," retorted Baird. "I've got repair jobs backing up round the block because of this stupid piece of junk." He grabbed an already oily rag, wiped his even more oily hands on it and kicked the tyre of the Packhorse.

"Come on, Damon. You know I'm not leaving until you come too," said Cole.

"I can't. We've got a senior staff meeting this afternoon and I need to get enough done that I can leave the rest to what I laughingly refer to as "my team" while I'm listening to Marcus drone on about Gorasni politics and supplies of powdered milk for a couple of hours," said Baird.

He was exaggerating for effect, but only a little. The last staff meeting had indeed involved discussions on the Gorasni's internal power struggles and their dwindling stores of powdered milk. Both of these things were considered to be bad, but Baird couldn't remember why they were of a level that needed to be raised at the Azura senior staff meeting. It still scared him a little that he was considered part of that senior staff, but he guessed that was a measure of just how bizarre, weird and totally screwed up the post-war Sera was.

Cole was unimpressed by his rant in any case. "Yeah, we're all under pressure, but like I said, you still need to eat and coffee ain't a substitute for real food. You look like shit, baby."

Baird gave a heavy sigh. "Okay, I give in. I could do with something to eat. Let's get going so that I can get something done before this week's foray into the pointless."

He wiped his hands a bit more thoroughly and stowed his tools. As he left he shouted out a few instructions to his right hand woman, Corporal Cordelia Brennan. She was quite capable of handling the rest of the stuff that had come into the workshop over the last few days, but still pretty inexperienced compared to Baird. He was doing his best to train people up, but they didn't have the time to do it properly. It was on the job learning or nothing at the moment.

Baird stepped out into the sunlight and blinked tiredly. He'd been inside so long that the light was hurting his eyes just from stepping outside. He could do with some sleep more than food to be honest, but he'd settle for eating now. He trailed behind Cole towards the central buildings of the island, passing Gears repairing the damage caused by the last battle for Sera. They didn't need buildings falling on anyone, and Azura had been built to house a few hundred scientists with vast amounts of lab space. No one had ever really considered that it might need to accommodate a few thousand Gears and their Gorasni allies, with all the facilities that went along with that.

Cole had been assigned to head-up the building crews because he was kind of good at getting people to do things. He also liked the idea of using his hands and didn't mind taking directions from one of the two Engineering Corp Gears that were more used to building defensive earthworks or latrines than actual buildings. They still knew more about putting up buildings than anyone else on the island and were probably just as busy as Baird.

The mess hall was as ornate as the rest of the island and always busy. It was a huge hall, set out with carved wooden tables, with expensive looking matching chairs. This had been where the scientists had come to eat and discuss their important work, and like everything on Azura it was supposed to be the height of comfort and luxury. Having had several hundred Gears eating in it, day in day out for the last few weeks, it wasn't looking quite as good as it probably once had. The bullet holes in the plaster of the walls kind of lowered the general tone of the place as well.

Baird and Cole grabbed a tray each and filled them with plates of the dish of the day, which looked to be meat stew of some kind. When Anya had started looking into how she was going to feed the Gears who were now living on Azura, she had started with Azura's kitchens. There she had located huge freezers full of produce and animal carcasses, waiting to be butchered and served to the island's scientists. There was enough food to last the former inhabitants of Azura for months, maybe even years for some things, and that was before they tackled the supplies of canned goods. Baird had heard that a team of Gears had nearly got lost in one of the store rooms, just trying to inventory everything that they had found.

It was all useful, and most of the Gears hadn't eaten like this for several years, but Anya was fond of pointing out that once it was gone, it was gone. They needed to get farms up and running so that they could replace their stocks and Azura wasn't a big island. It would do for now, but anyone planning to live on Azura would still mostly be reliant on the mainland for food. The main reason that they needed Azura at the moment was because it had the highest level of technology anywhere on Sera and the remnants of the COG weren't about to give that up. Azura might hold the key to preventing Sera from descending into the dark ages again.

Baird hoped so because he'd really miss hot water and central heating if Sera lost its technology. Not to mention that fixing technology was pretty much his main reason for existing at the moment. If he couldn't fix stuff then he didn't know what he was good for. He sure as hell wasn't a farmer, as he'd proved on their recent cruise aboard CNV Sovereign. He poked at the stew.

"Couldn't we for once just have a steak?" said Baird.

"Not until we can get some cows on the island," said Cole. "This is the best way of getting the most out of the meat we found in the deep freeze. It's a damn sight better than we've had for a while now."

"I know," said Baird. "But a guy can dream. How's the rebuilding going?"

"Pretty well. We're clearing the rubble from the Maelstrom tower pretty quickly. There's still most of the building left under it all. Hey, I saw Sam today. She's got command of the southern patrols at the moment," said Cole.

"Huh," was all Baird could manage between mouthfuls. He was going for disinterested, but somehow he never quite pulled off the right tone when Sam was mentioned. He still didn't know how he felt about Samantha Byrne, the shorthaired, brunette Kashkuri Gear with a gift for biting sarcasm. He regarded her as a friend that he could trade barbs with, but sometimes they both took that a bit too far. He definitely wasn't looking for a relationship at the moment, and he doubted that she was either so he wasn't sure why he kept thinking about her so much.

"Carmine's hooked up with some girl from Beta squad. By all accounts it's looking serious," said Cole.

"How the hell do you hear all this stuff?" asked Baird.

"I just talk to people," said Cole. "You should try it some time."

"Huh," said Baird, again. "Last time I tried that I think I got slapped."

"I said talk, not insult. You need to cultivate your social side, baby. Times are changing around here and we're all going to have to get along on this island."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I can just stay in my workshop and let people bring me stuff to fix. It seems to work pretty well right now. Come on Cole, stop yapping and eat up, we've got Anya's meeting to get to and you know how she gets if we're late."

Cole just gave him a look, but did at least concentrate on eating and not trying to impart the latest island gossip to his friend. Baird knew that Cole didn't approve of his current lifestyle. The ex-thrashball player could mother-hen with the best of them, but right now Baird didn't have much choice when it came to working hours. Cole did know that too. Baird would have loved to get more sleep and eat his meals at regular intervals, but Azura needed to be kept running and apparently Baird was important in that equation.

* * *

The meeting wasn't actually as dull as Baird had feared it might be, but that was because it put the fear of god into him instead. That was pretty much what life had been like for the past eighteen years, so it didn't faze as much as it would have fazed someone who hadn't been at war for all that time. Being a Gear was all about large periods of extreme boredom, punctuated with moments of sheer terror.

The map that Anya displayed for them was enough to make Baird wish for a Grub attack. Grubs they could stop, this was a force of nature and it was heading right for their island paradise.

"We've got a storm coming in," said Anya. "A big one. Which is a problem because we've got building work that needs to be secured and boats out. Just to add to the fun, the facilities on this island don't include storm shelters because no one ever expected the Maelstrom Barrier to be down and actually let a real storm get close to the island."

"We're sure?" asked Marcus.

"Yeah, about the only thing the Hammer of Dawn satellites are good for is weather mapping," said Anya.

"Great," said Baird. "And we just started getting this place back together. What time's it going to hit?"

"Tonight, probably before midnight but that's only an estimate," said Anya. "I've already recalled the fishing fleet. They should all make it back or be clear enough that it won't hit them too badly, but we need to start battening down the hatches here and finding somewhere safe for everyone to ride it out."

"There's the tunnels," said Marcus.

"Is it safe down there?" asked Cole. "There was a fair bit of damage."

"Should be. We cleared enough of the rubble to get a path to the docks," said Amy Sakuri, one of the building engineers. "I'll give it a good inspection and we can make sure it's sealed to the elements. I'll need some manpower though."

"Not a problem," said Cole. "My guys and girls were nearly done with the Maelstrom tower clearance anyway."

Sakuri nodded. "Okay, but we'll have to get the scaffolding down from the accommodation block first. If it gets blown down it'll just cause more damage."

"And I'll get as many of our vehicles under cover as I can," said Baird. "I don't want our last Packhorse being hit by a tree or something. We really don't need any more repairs added to the list."

"Anything else we should worry about?" asked Marcus, looking at Baird.

"The communications array. I can't see that surviving intact if this is going to be as bad as we think, but there isn't much we can do about that. It has to be up high or we won't get a signal out. It took us a day to get the big dish up there and that was with a team of seven of us. There's nowhere for it to go even if we could get it down in time. You might want to warn people that they probably won't be hearing from us for a while after this hits," said Baird. "The overhead power lines will probably go down too, but there aren't many of them so they won't be too difficult to fix. You might want to get any Ravens that we've got the hell out of here."

"Already gone," said Anya.

They only had a couple anyway and they were mostly running shuttles between Anvil Gate and Azura, although not too many until the fuel situation was sorted out. They were lucky they had any helicopters left at all after the battle for Azura.

The meeting broke up a few minutes later after everyone had been assigned their tasks. Baird didn't need to be told twice to get anything breakable under cover. He hadn't spent this long fixing all the tech in Azura to have it trashed again. He really did not need Mother Nature throwing her might at him right now, he was already at full stretch.

He headed back to his workshop and began shouting at people to move stuff inside, then went out himself to get a couple of rat bikes that had been parked up outside. He hadn't ridden a bike in a while and one of them was Sam's pride and joy, so he was extra careful to make sure he took his time. Another couple of his guys had gone to bring in the only Armadillo on the island, and he rounded the corner of the building just as they pulled up in the courtyard outside.

"Hey, boss," said Cody Quayle, a very junior mechanic from the original Vectes' motor pool. "The Armadillo's too big to get under cover."

"Glad we've got your genius to tell us that, Quayle. Get some webbing and we'll lash it down. Tie it to those pylons there," said Baird, as he pushed the rat bike into the shop. "Get a move on people, we haven't got all day. We're going to need to get boards over all the windows. There's too much breakable stuff in here and I don't want to find all my hard work on the Pack's been undone because you lot forgot to put enough nails in."

There were a few mumbled "yes, boss" from around the room. No one wanted to suffer Baird's wrath. He wondered why any of them stuck around, usually his command style came in two forms abrasive and extremely abrasive.

He headed back out to get the second rat bike and met Sam coming in the opposite direction, already taking care of the bike.

"I heard you needed all hands to shut up the workshop," said Sam. "Thought I'd save you the bother of bringing this one round too."

"Uh, thanks," said Baird. "I've got yours inside already. You didn't tell me that the clutch was sticking again."

Sam shrugged. "I thought you had enough on your plate for the moment. I heard the Pack' died."

"Not dead yet," replied Baird. "I'll get it running again, but it's going to take some serious work."

The Packhorse was pretty important to the island. After the fire fight for Azura, the roads were pretty bad and the Packhorse was one of the larger vehicles that could manage the difficult terrain. It was mainly used for moving supplies around and transporting fish from the boats. They'd pressed a few other smaller vehicles into service since it broke down, but everything was taking twice as long as usual because of it. They couldn't afford manpower to be tied up like that, so if Baird couldn't get the vehicle up and running then it was going to cause a lot of inconvenience.

"Is that why you look like shit?" asked the Kashkuri Gear.

"Did Cole send you?" he asked. The ex-thrashball player had already told him that once today.

"Is he the only one allowed to comment on the fact that you're working too hard?"

"Someone's got to keep this island running," replied Baird.

"I thought that's what Anya was doing," said Sam.

"Well she wouldn't be if I didn't make sure that all the mechanical stuff was kept running. Every time something breaks on this damn island, it's me they come running to not Lieutenant Stroud."

"Yeah, which was sort of my point," said Sam. "Maybe you should take a break once in a while and get some proper down time."

"Yeah, I should just kick back and go get a suntan on the beach," said Baird. "I knew I was doing something wrong."

"You know what, Baird? I don't give a rat's arse," said Sam. "I was just trying to make sure you weren't killing yourself, but hey, if you want to work until you drop, who am I to stop you? I've got better things to do than stand here and argue with arrogant arseholes."

Sam thrust the bike in Baird's direction and stalked off towards where the building crews were getting the underground tunnels ready for habitation as storm shelters. Baird swallowed the need to shout a retort at her retreating form, shook his head and turned back to getting the bike into the shop.

* * *

Marcus had his hands full over the next few hours. The wind was beginning to rise and the storm was getting closer. The sun was setting and dusk had descended over the island as the weather worsened. The skies opened a moment later and it began to rain.

He'd already been round the island once in an ATV, checking on the various posts that were in the process of securing buildings and other assets. Now he was chasing the last of the personnel into the shelter of the tunnels before they boarded themselves in for the night.

"Everyone into the tunnels," he shouted, doing his last rounds of the people dragging the last of their supplies into the tunnel mouth. He could see Anya, doing the same a couple of feet away. The rain was lashing at them and he was longing to get inside in the dry.

Anya followed the final Gears in and Marcus dragged the first of the double doors across. "Is that everyone?" he shouted over the wind.

"I think so," said Anya. She peered out at the empty courtyard. There was a flash of lightning and a few moments later, a rumble of thunder in the distance.

Cole came running up behind them, looking worried. "Hey, has Baird come through here?"

"I saw his team, I thought he was with them," said Anya.

"No, they left him finishing up in the workshop," said Cole.

"Damn it," said Marcus. He watched the way that the wind whipped at the trees around the courtyard. A piece of corrugated iron roofing blew across the ground at some speed. "He's going to get himself killed." He reached for his radio. "Baird? Come in, this is Marcus." He gave it a second and got no answer. "Baird, can you hear me?"

There was a lot of static but no answer from their squad mate.


	2. Chapter 2

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: I know you'd all thought I'd forgotten about this, but I'm still working on it. Alas, I can't promise the next update will be any faster but it'll all get posted eventually.

Last chapter: A storm sweeps towards Azura and, of course, Baird is unaccounted for at the storm shelter...

* * *

"The storm must be affecting reception," said Anya.

"I'll go get him," said Cole.

"Not on your own," said Marcus. "I'm coming with you." He was not going to lose a member of his squad to a damn storm.

"Be quick," said Anya, "that storm isn't going to wait for you to get back before it hits full force."

Marcus leaned in and gave Anya a soft kiss on the forehead. "Don't worry, we'll kick his ass back here in time to batten down the hatches."

"See that you do, Sergeant," replied Anya, with a smile.

Marcus gave her a quick smile back, and then he headed out into the storm, Cole half a step behind him.

"Let's try the workshop," said Marcus.

"Yeah," agreed Cole.

They dashed along the rain soaked cobbles of the road, hardly able to see as they moved. Neither of them were wearing their armour, they hardly ever did these days, so they were unencumbered by its extra bulk but also unprotected. Marcus wondered if he should have worn it for this excursion, it might have been useful, given the amount of debris that was flying around them. Bits of tree were tumbling past them and Marcus had already had a piece of roof tile miss his head by a few inches.

The workshop came into sight, at the top of a slight incline and with a courtyard in front of it that currently had an Armadillo parked in it. They could see a light glowing in the workshop.

"He better have a damn good excuse for this," ground out Marcus.

Cole reached the door first, it was already half boarded but he could step over it easily enough.

"Baird! You in here? Shake your tail, baby," shouted Cole.

There was no reply.

"Damn it, where is he?" asked Marcus, looking around the empty lab.

There was the sound of a crash from across the courtyard. Through the rain Marcus and Cole could just make out the shape of Baird, goggles down, pushing what appeared to be JACK. JACK was the last remaining COG bot on the island, possibly the last in the world. It was floating on its repulsor fields, but just barely.

"Baird!" shouted Cole, but clearly the mechanic couldn't hear them.

Marcus and Cole jogged across the courtyard and into shouting distance.

"Baird! What the hell are you doing?"

Baird turned towards them, and then back to JACK. "It's JACK. I was bringing him back to the workshop when he got hit by some flying debris. He's got two repulsors down. I've got to get him inside."

"Damn it, Baird," said Marcus. "Why didn't you grab someone to help?"

Marcus shifted in so that he could help push the bot.

"I sent all my team to the shelter. I thought this would be a five minute job, and in case you hadn't noticed the radios are down," spat Baird. "If the repulsors hadn't been broken then I'd have got it done in plenty of time."

Cole had grabbed the front of JACK and was now pulling it. With three Gears on the job, the bot was moving a bit more quickly. They got it across the courtyard and into the workshop with a lot less trouble than Baird had been having.

"Then you should have left it," said Marcus.

"You're kidding. This is probably the most advanced piece of technology on the planet and you want me to just abandon it to the storm?" asked Baird, sounding both annoyed and incredulous in one sentence.

"Better JACK than you, baby," said Cole, before Marcus could express the same sentiment less subtly.

"Shut it down and let's get out of here. Anya's already probably worried," said Marcus.

Baird did as he was told for once and rapidly got JACK into a state that he could be left in. Marcus all but pulled him out of the workshop and the three Gears nailed down the last of the boards across workshop door. The wind howled around them, casting dirt into their eyes and Marcus wished that he had his own pair of goggles to protect them.

With their work done, they ran back out of the workshop courtyard towards the storm shelters, dodging pieces of debris and building rubble. The strong wind impeded their progress and conversation was impossible. A large tree branch came hurtling towards them and caught Cole on the hip, sending him sprawling for a moment. Baird was grabbing his friend and pulling him up almost before Marcus had seen what had happened. Cole seemed okay, but was limping badly as Baird supported him on his left side. Marcus got on Cole's right side and the three of them got moving again, but made progress more slowly down the street.

There was the sound of screeching metal to their left. Marcus looked up to see that the huge communications dish that Baird and his team had spent several days getting into service, was being pushed by the gale force winds. It had been positioned on top of one of the large accommodation blocks, and had a long way to fall. The mounting was bending and about to shear, just as Baird had predicted. If it came down now, then they'd be right underneath the falling metal.

"Oh shit," said Baird, as he too looked upwards.

"Move it!" shouted Marcus.

"Don't have to tell me twice," Cole shouted back.

The three of them put on an extra burst of speed and flung themselves forwards, just as the huge dish came crashing down behind them. The force of the landing easily knocked them off their feet. A piece of one of the stanchions caught Marcus on the arm, cutting into his shoulder. He let out a strangled groan of pain, but they couldn't stop now to tend to wounds. He stumbled to his feet, grabbed Cole and dragged him up too. Baird was breathing heavily, but also pushing himself to his feet and staggering forwards against the wind. He took up his place again on Cole's other side and they plunged onwards.

The door to the shelter was in sight and they limped the last few yards, avoiding flying objects as best they could. Marcus hammered on the wood of the door. It would be barricaded inside, and he really hoped that they could hear him. The doors had been made thick and strong to keep the storm out. Apparently someone was listening out for them, because the doors were pushed open and they fell inside, glad to get out of the wind.

The doors were slammed closed behind them as they entered and then two Gears got to work boarding them shut.

Marcus shouted for a medic, and one of Hayman's staff came running with Anya a few steps behind. He'd have bet good money that she'd been listening out for him, whilst she attended to her other duties. Jace was with her, a clipboard in his hands. He looked concerned, but ticked off the new arrivals without comment. He'd been acting as Anya's aide for the duration of this crisis and helping to deal with the arrangements for the storm shelters.

"Marcus!" said the blonde haired Lieutenant. "You're bleeding."

Marcus grunted. "Take a look at Cole first, he took a worse hit."

Anya nodded at the medic and she handed Anya the antiseptic and bandages that she had already begun to get out to use on Marcus. She went to Cole, who was still supporting himself on Baird and the wall. Anya's hands hovered around the gash in Marcus' arm for a second, as she tried to decide the best way to approach the injury.

"What about Baird?" she asked, as she gently cleaned the wound.

"I'm fine," replied Baird. "But the communications dish is scrap."

Despite his dramatic announcement, Baird's attention was on Cole and the nasty wound across his hip. The medic was lowering Cole to the ground so that he could take the weight off the injury. With that done she got to work cleaning and applying a dressing.

"Why didn't you come back to the shelter with the rest of your team?" asked Anya.

"I had to get JACK undercover. It was supposed to take a couple of minutes, but one of his repulsors got hit by some debris," said Baird.

"You should have just left it," growled Marcus.

"Are you kidding me? It's going to be years before we're able to build another one of those bots, if we ever get that level of tech back again," said Baird.

"It's not worth more than you are, Baird," said Anya. "You nearly got the three of you killed."

"Yeah, and you're the only one without a scratch on you," added Jace. "Doesn't seem fair when you're the reason they were out there."

Baird surged forwards from where he'd been kneeling beside Cole, his fist heading for Jace's face. It caught Marcus by surprise and he was barely able to grab Baird before the punch connected. Baird might spend most of his time in his workshop, but people who underestimated his ability to fight got a nasty surprise. However, he very rarely resorted to violence over a few misspoken words, and never with someone he regarded as a friend.

"Calm down," said Marcus, as he held a squirming Baird. "Don't be such a fucking idiot."

"I didn't ask for anyone to come looking for me," retorted Baird, as he struggled against Marcus' grip.

"I'm just saying…" said Jace.

Anya shot him a dark look and he fell silent. Marcus was glad. He wasn't sure he'd have been able to hold Baird if Jace had continued. He gave a nod of his head in the direction of the tunnel, and Jace raised an eyebrow, but got the message and walked away. Occasionally Marcus forgot that Jace was the youngest of the extended members of Delta, and didn't always think before he opened his mouth.

"Hey, it's just a scratch, baby," said Cole, from the floor. "Slap a bandage on it and we'll be fine."

Baird shook off Marcus' hold. "Am I the only one on this island that understands just how screwed we'd be without our machines?"

"We'd be even more screwed without someone to fix them," said Marcus. "You can't take risks like that."

"Yeah, because that's all I am to you lot – the guy who fixes the stuff you break. And you know what, you might actually have something there. Fuck the lot of you. I've got a team to check on." Baird stormed off into the dimly lit tunnels to find the rest of the engineering team.

The sound of the storm raging outside was suddenly even louder than before, as the group fell silent.

"Are you going to go after him?" asked Anya.

Marcus exchanged a look with Cole, then shook his head. "He knows he should have been back on time. Partly that reaction was because he feels guilty. Give him some time to cool off."

The medic finished dealing with Cole's injury and the Gear got to his feet, gingerly. He limped over to join the others, leaning on the wall for support. Anya was less practiced at tending to injuries and was only just completing her ministrations to Marcus' wound after the earlier interruption.

"He just needs some sleep," said Cole. "You know he's been working non-stop on that Packhorse, and then getting ready for the storm. I don't think he's slept properly for a couple of days."

"More like a week," said Sam, who'd sauntered across, her own clipboard held nonchalantly between her fingers. She'd probably seem Baird storming away and come to see what all the fuss was about.

"A week?" asked Anya, confirming that she'd heard right, and that Sam hadn't been joking.

Sam nodded. "Give or take."

There was a general moment of realisation from Anya and Marcus, as they connected the dots and worked out that was why Baird was even more grouchy than usual.

"Shit," said Marcus.

"And lack of sleep tends to lead to bad decisions," said Anya.

"Yeah, he's an idiot, but he's our idiot," said Sam. "What are we going to do?"

All eyes rested on Marcus. He shrugged and then regretted it as it pulled on his newest wound, and Anya admonished him to stay still.

"What _can_ we do? He's a grown man. I'm his squad leader not his mother," said Marcus.

"I know, Marcus, but he's going to make himself ill if he carries on like this," said Cole. "Delta looks after its own."

"Well, I can take him off duty for tonight," said Anya. "After that… I guess we'll just have to monitor the situation. I hate to say it, but he is right. We need him fixing things. If Sera's ever going to get back on its feet, we need every working scrap of technology that we have and the understanding of how to build more."

"Can we lighten his workload? Get some more guys over from the mainland?" asked Sam.

Anya just shook her head as she applied the last piece of tape to the dressing on Marcus' wound.

"They're already stretched at Anvil Gate. I expect their mechanics and engineers are in the same position," said Anya. "But I'll take a look at what Baird's got on at the moment, and make sure that he's only dealing with the essential repairs."

"He's not going to like you interfering in his workshop," said Cole.

"Tough, I'm his CO. He'll just have to deal with it. Anyway, I'll give him fifteen minutes to cool off. Then I'd better go and tell him to find a bunk and occupy it," said Anya. "He's too angry with you, Marcus, to actually do what you'd to tell him to do."

"You sure you wouldn't rather I took the bullet for the team?" asked Cole.

Anya shook her head, her short blonde hair briefly escaping across one eye before she shoved it back. "My turn. But you should get some sleep too. We'll all be on clean up duty tomorrow."

She headed off in Jace's direction, probably to mend fences there before she went over to the area that the engineering team had annexed for their group. Jace would listen to Anya. People respected her leadership after she'd got them through the first early weeks on Azura and made sure everyone was fed, clothed and warm.

Marcus was grateful to Anya for dealing with their mechanic. She was right about Baird's perverse streak. It meant he'd probably do exactly the opposite of whatever Marcus asked at the moment. Meanwhile they still had a tunnel full of Gears and civilians who were crammed together in close proximity and probably a little scared. He could already hear raised voices and he doubted they'd make it through the storm without more disagreements. This promised to be a long night.

* * *

Anya had nothing against Baird. He was just part of the package that came with Delta and he had helped save them all on a fair few occasions. That included making damaged Hammers of Dawn work, getting shot-up APCs running and bringing the remains of the Gorasni navy to Azura as reinforcements. He was probably the smartest person on the island at the moment, and also the most annoying.

She wasn't entirely certain how he felt about her, but his dislike of women serving as Gears was well known. Although, lately he seemed to have stopped making a big thing of it and she was actually wondering if perhaps he didn't quite believe it so much now. He'd chosen a woman as his second and she knew that was because she'd been the best mechanic out of the bunch. He'd also followed her own orders like he'd follow those of any Lieutenant, and she didn't take it personally when he was a little creative about it. He'd done exactly the same things to Marcus on several occasions. Baird was just Baird.

Smoothing Jace's ruffled feathers had been easy. Everyone knew that Baird had a temper, although most of them forgot how rarely he deployed it. Baird usually preferred sarcasm and razor sharp cutting remarks to losing his temper. Anyway, asking Jace to think before he spoke and giving him a few words of reassurance were enough. So, now she was looking for Baird.

As he'd said, she found him with the rest of his engineering team, going over some of the really delicate equipment that they'd decided to bring into the tunnels for safe keeping. He straightened up as she approached.

"What now, Lieutenant? Has Jace got some more insults that he wants to sling my way?"

Anya allowed herself a small sigh. "No, Corporal, I just came to tell you that you're off-duty until the storm's over. So your orders are to get some sleep. There'll be plenty of stuff for you to fix in the morning."

"Awesome," said Baird. "But right now I've got inventory to check."

"That wasn't a request, Baird," said Anya. "Go to bed before you collapse from exhaustion."

"Have you been talking to Cole?" asked Baird.

It sounded like a non-sequitur at first, but she thought she understood. "And a few other people. By all accounts you haven't slept in a proper bed for days. Do you know just how reckless that is?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me," said Baird.

"Just find a bunk and get some rest, Baird," she said.

"I can't, I've got work to do," said Baird. "How many times do I have to explain this?"

"How many times do I have to order you to get some sleep?" asked Anya. "There's nothing that can't wait until morning. We're all stuck in here until the storm blows over. We've got enough food and water to last us for days. Nothing urgent is going to happen in the few hours it takes you to actually get some rest. Don't make me say it again. I can still have you sent to the guardhouse for insubordination and you'll get plenty of sleep there."

"You wouldn't," said Baird, but Anya could see the single moment in his eyes when he wavered in that belief.

"Try me," she replied.

Baird handed his tools to his second in command, Corporal Brennan, with the petulance of a five year old child. "Fine, you win."

"Good, I'll walk you to your bunk, Corporal Baird," said Anya, stepping away in the direction of the area that had been set up as temporary sleeping space.

"Okay, but people are going to talk if you're seen taking me to bed. And don't blame me when people start shouting about stuff still being broken in the morning," said Baird, trailing behind Anya.

"That's something else that we need to have a discussion about," said Anya. "If you can't even find time to sleep, then I'm worried that your workshop has too much on its plate. I think we need to cut back to essential repairs only."

"We're already only doing the important stuff," said Baird. "What do you think I've been doing all this time? Fixing broken toasters?"

"Honestly, I've got no idea, because you haven't briefed me. I assumed that you could manage your own workload, but apparently I need to be more proactive. So tomorrow, before we get into the clean-up, you're going to tell me what you've got on your books to repair and what the priorities are. Then we'll see where we go from there. I'll see you in my office at oh nine hundred. Don't be late or I'll send Marcus and Cole to find you again."

They threaded their way through the groups of people, most of whom were sat around chatting, others were sleeping or tucking into ration packs.

Baird rolled his eyes. "Sure, whatever. Shit, when did you start channelling your mother?"

"If I was my mother then she'd probably have thrown you in the guardhouse weeks ago. I'm told I'm a lot more tolerant than she ever was," said Anya.

They reached the first side tunnel which contained two long rows of camp beds, one down each wall. They'd found them in Azura's stores. Whoever had equipped Azura had made sure that every eventuality was considered and taken care of. The island base still had rooms of stores that they hadn't opened up yet and promised to hold things that were even more useful than eight dozen camp beds.

Cole was waiting at Baird's assigned section, and his and Baird's kit bags already lay on their beds. Cole was sat on top of his blankets with his bad leg propped up on a three legged stool, thumbing through a very old copy of Thrashball Weekly that someone had found in one of the accommodation blocks. It had an article in it about the Cougars, so it had naturally found its way to Cole.

"Still reading that?" asked Baird.

"Nothing better to do," replied Cole.

"I guess they must say some good stuff about you?" asked Baird, flopping down on his own cot.

"They're fair," replied Cole. He looked up at the Lieutenant. "Thanks, Anya. I'll make sure he stays put."

"This is a bunch of crap," said Baird, lying back, shuffling to get comfortable and then staring up at the tunnel roof.

"It's a hell of a lot more comfortable than your desk in the workshop," replied Cole.

"That wasn't what I meant," replied Baird. "I meant being escorted to my bunk and then given my own personal guard. I'm not some little kid with a bedtime."

"Yeah, I'm sure your ego's suffering something chronic," quipped Cole. "Then again you're acting like a child, so can't complain if you get treated like one."

Anya caught Cole's eye briefly. They both knew that this was a temporary solution and they needed to get to the bottom of why Baird was running himself into the ground before they could solve the problem. For tonight, this was the best they could manage.

"I'll leave you to it," said Anya, and walked away to the sounds of Cole and Baird's continuing banter.

* * *

When the morning arrived, the storm had blown itself down to a normal windy day. The sky was still a stormy grey, but the darkest clouds had dissipated and most of the energy had gone from the air.

Cole noted that it was the first day of Bloom, and traditionally that marked the start of the summer months on Sera. It also meant that All-Father's Day was nearly upon them, a day which had once been a time for pageantry and celebrations within the COG, but now barely got remembered. Celebrating the formation of the COG hardly seemed worthwhile when only a mere remnant still existed. However, Anya had been organising a special meal for weeks and an evening of entertainment, with the idea that everyone could use a morale boost. Cole wasn't sure if they'd still manage it with all the damage from the storm to deal with, but Anya seemed very determined that it was still going ahead.

Inside the tunnels, Baird had slept the sleep of the blissful dead for the full night. It was an indication of just how tired Cole's friend was. Like almost every Gear on the island, Baird normally slept shallowly. Years of war tended to mean you got good at waking quickly and paying attention to the sounds of danger approaching even when asleep. It also meant you had your fair share of horror stories to relive in the dark hours of a dream-filled night. Cole was no different, although he slept more deeply than some.

This morning Cole ended up waking Baird, and hated himself for doing it. He'd have liked nothing better than to let the sleep-deprived mechanic snooze through the day, but they needed to pack away the equipment in the tunnels and someone had to start surveying the damage. Baird awoke with a start, and immediately reached for a weapon that wasn't there. None of them carried their lancers anymore, unless they were actually on guard duty.

"Damn it," swore Baird, as he got upright. "What time is it?"

"Gone eight," replied Cole.

"Shit. Anya's expecting me in her office at nine with a report on the repairs," said Baird.

"Yeah, which gives us plenty of time to get ourselves down to the mess hall for breakfast, and I'm not trying to get personal here, but one of us really needs a shower and it isn't me," said Cole.

Baird pulled at his t-shirt and gave it a sniff, waving a hand at Cole to suggest he thought it wasn't that bad. Cole sighed. Baird was still covered in grime and engine oil from last night's excursions.

"Anya's gonna freak if you turn up in her office looking like that," added Cole.

"Screw Anya," replied Baird, stretching and getting to his feet. "But maybe you're right, I could use some clean clothes. Come on, we'll swing by the workshop on the way to the mess hall."

The two Gears headed out of the tunnels and into the grey light of the morning. Baird looked around them. Everywhere they looked there were damaged buildings and storm debris strewn across the streets. Azura was a mess and crews of Gears had only just begun the clean-up operation.

"Great. All that work we put in getting this place back on its feet, undone in one night. The communications dish is going to be at least a week's work to replace," said Baird.

He walked down the street to the twisted metal that was the remains of the dish, and began to examine the broken pieces.

"I'm going to need to get up on the roof and see what's happened to the wiring," said Baird, as he poked at the pile of rubble.

"Yeah, that's not happening until we've checked the building structure and put the scaffolding up," said Cole. "Anyway, you'll have plenty of stuff to keep you busy while the building crews get to work."

"Don't I know it. Assuming Anya stops pretending to be my Mom for long enough to let me get some work done," said Baird.

"You have been overdoing things lately. You can't keep burning the candle at both ends and expect that brain of yours to keep working at its best," said Cole.

"Yeah, yeah. If I wasn't the resident genius of Azura, no one would give a shit," said Baird, moving down the road towards his workshop.

"I'm going to forget you said that, because you know it ain't true," replied Cole.

"Really?" asked Baird. "Okay, for some reason that I've never figured out, you seem to like my company, but everyone else on this island… Basically they just want me for my brains, which I can't really blame them for given my unique charisma."

"You do remember Marcus hauling your ass across Tyrus to Jacinto after Tarla Plain?"

"I prefer to forget that," said Baird. "What with, you know, the major surgery at the beginning of that little excursion, the constant, blinding pain in the middle and, oh yeah, the stay in the intensive care unit at the end." Baird kicked at a piece of rubble.

Cole winced inwardly. He didn't particularly like remembering it either, especially exactly how close they'd come to losing Baird, but it was worth it to make the point he needed. Still, he'd happily never see Baird lying in a hospital bed again. However, as usual, Baird had missed what he was trying to say completely.

"But you know that was just because Marcus always has to be the hero," added Baird.

Cole shook his head. "For a genius, you're pretty dumb. Marcus isn't like that."

"Yeah?" said Baird, as he continued on towards his workshop. "Could have fooled me. He's always acting like he has to save everyone. Even now when the worst we have to worry about is a broken communications dish."

"Hey, he kind of did save everyone," Cole pointed out. "And that bitch Locust Queen had it coming."

"Sure, ruin my rant by bringing up the truth," said Baird, stomping through the courtyard outside his workshop. "But you know that Marcus loves the big damn hero routine, otherwise he wouldn't have risked his life last night to come find me."

"Just as well he did, or you'd be a greasy spot underneath a communications dish," said Cole.

"You have a short memory. I'm not the one limping," replied Baird. "And I didn't need you lot running out there to rescue me. I can look after myself."

"Then you should have come back to base with the rest of your team," said Cole, getting fed up with Baird's prevarication. "Why's it so hard for you to just let people help you?"

"Because help isn't free," said Baird, "someone always wants something in return," and with that he strode off into his workshop.

Cole was inclined to leave him to it. When Baird was in a mood like this then there was no talking to him.

"I'll see you in the mess hall," he shouted through the door at Baird's retreating figure, and was rewarded by a dismissive wave.

Cole sighed, he was used to Baird after years of being his friend, but something was different now. Ever since they'd set up home on Azura, Baird had struggled with doing anything other than working. Everyone was having a hard time adjusting to post-war Sera, because it would have been impossible not to, after living life as a soldier for so long. Gears tended to reach for a weapon at the slightest provocation, but with no enemy to shoot that wasn't a terribly useful instinct anymore so had to be suppressed or channelled into other things. Cole didn't think that was Baird's problem though, or, at least, not all of it.

Cole himself still had an uncomfortable feeling that staying in one place would get them all killed, but the grubs were gone and he knew it was just his mind playing tricks. The worst they'd had to deal with had been the storm, and everyone was safe and accounted for after it. Azura was home now and probably would be for years to come. Maybe Baird just needed more time to get to grips with the new Sera and he'd come round soon. Cole could hope.


	3. Chapter 3

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Longer chapter this time and a quick update! Hope you like, although small warning because Baird does swear in this chapter. Reviews make me very happy.

* * *

Baird showered, changed his clothes, met Cole for an amazingly silent breakfast and then headed to Anya's office. His left arm, injured a couple of years ago in an incident with a Digger and an imulsion drum, was aching, as it often did when the weather was bad. But he'd learnt to put up with it. He had an aversion to painkillers, and they were in too short supply to hand out for minor aches and pains anyway. The warmth of the shower had helped it a little, so he'd probably try the same treatment again tonight.

Lieutenant Stroud's office was a room in one of the large central buildings. It had once belonged to the island's Gear unit commander, Dury, but he'd been killed defending the island from the Locust. Anya hadn't really wanted an office, and particularly hadn't wanted this office, but Marcus had convinced her that it was the best location for her to set up the command post. There was a reason that it had belonged to the previous commander, it was central, the whole island could be seen from the windows and it had good communication lines. For all these reasons, it made sense to press it into service again.

Anya made it clear that she was available to anyone who came to her door. She actually spent very little time in the room, mostly travelling around the island, but did press it into service as a meeting or conference room. She had given Marcus a desk in the outer office, but he preferred to be out and around the island too. Constant radio communication meant that the two of them managed any problems with the minimum of fuss.

Baird actually had a lot of respect for their style of command, and it seemed to be working. Azura mostly functioned well. He still wished that he wasn't the only decent mechanic on the island, but there was nothing that Anya or Marcus could do about that.

He was about five minutes late walking through the door to the outer office, and didn't bother to check in with the Private on the desk by the door, who was Anya's current aide. He took one look at the dark frown on Baird's face and apparently decided not to attempt to stop him. Baird had a rather tatty, battered and oil stained, hard cover notebook clutched in one hand, which he threw onto Anya's desk as he strode into the room. She was looking over some building plans and it landed right on top of them, as he'd intended it to.

"Knock yourself out, Lieutenant. It's all in there," said Baird.

Anya got to her feet, saying nothing. She walked past Baird and shut the office door, giving a nod to the rather worried looking aide. Baird stiffened slightly. Anya never shut the door, at least not unless she was about to give him a dressing down, but she didn't seem to be mad at him exactly. He didn't like the way that this felt at all. She returned to her desk and set aside the building plans.

"Take me through it," said Anya, opening the book and turning it around so that he could read it more easily.

People probably thought that Baird was slapdash in his approach to his work, because he always gave off the air of someone who didn't care about anything. Anya already knew different from the intelligence reports on the Locust that Baird used to send HQ. He was meticulous when it came to keeping records and making notes about technical things. She didn't even comment on the careful headings and descriptions of work carried out, or the detailed breakdowns of who did what and how long it took.

Baird was a little floored by her calmness. He'd expected a confrontation about how he wasn't moving things along fast enough, probably without even looking at the notebook and his records. He should have known Anya better though, of course she'd want the evidence first.

Baird grabbed a chair from the side of the room with a sigh. He turned it around, straddled it and began going through every single thing that was in the workshop at the moment and how he planned to tackle both the repairs that he had scheduled and his Research and Development work. Anya made some notes of her own as he talked, but said nothing until he'd finished.

"You have a team of five juniors, one SIC and yourself," said Anya. "That means you shouldn't be tackling more than fifty six hours of work per day, and you need to include your management responsibilities within that, plus time off for breaks and leave. You're over-booked by about a third and have been every day since we got here. It's no wonder you're over stretched and spending every hour that god sends working."

"I think I just said that," replied Baird. "In fact, I'm fairly sure I've been saying that since the beginning."

"You have, but you're not delegating and some of this stuff could wait. The priorities are always food, water and heat. Vehicles are helpful but not essential, Azura isn't so big that we can't walk anywhere we need to get to. But if a boat can't go out to fish, then we might be in trouble. I know you want to repair everything that gets brought to you, from communications dishes to rat bikes, but you're only a small team," said Anya, her eyes sincere in their concern.

Baird sighed. "Okay, but who do I turn down? Everyone seems to think that we're free and clear now that the grubs are gone, so why shouldn't we have hot water and hot food, and a partridge in a mother fucking pear tree? And you know who gets blamed if that stuff doesn't happen, and it isn't Corporal Brennan."

"Baird, you've already worked miracles, and you're sort of a victim of your own success. You keep on doing the impossible, so people have come to expect it. You need to tell them "no", and I don't know why you haven't been. It's very unlike you to let people take advantage of you." A small frown of puzzlement had crept its way onto Anya's forehead.

Baird grunted. "I tell them "no", they just don't listen."

"Then we'll start a new system. Everything gets booked in, but work doesn't start unless I sign off on it. I'll need an estimate of the time the work will take to complete, what it is, and its priority. You'll bring me the booking list at the end of each day, with your recommendations and I'll agree it with you. You can begin as soon as you get back to the workshop and anyone who doesn't like it is free to take it up with me personally. That goes for your personal side projects too. I want you to actually leave the workshop at the end of your shift and you can start by coming to the Allfather's Day celebrations."

Baird rolled his eyes. "If it's all the same to you, I'll give it a miss."

"That's an order, Corporal. You don't have to stay, but as a member of the Azura council you have to put in an appearance. Besides, I'd have thought you'd want to celebrate your birthday."

Baird froze.

"How did you…? I haven't even told Cole…"

"It was in your records and I had access to them at one point. Your date of birth stuck in my mind, being the fourth day of Bloom – Allfather's Day…" Anya trailed off, probably because Baird knew his expression must have been one of panicked dismay. "What's wrong?"

"I don't celebrate my birthday," said Baird, abruptly. "I don't want anyone to know, or do something stupid like try to make me cake, or throw a surprise party. I want to forget that the day ever happened. You got that?"

Anya raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "Of course, whatever you want."

"Okay," said Baird, a little more calmly. "Anything else that you want to do to make my life more difficult? Other than your super-efficient new rules?"

Anya handed him a handwritten list. "These are your top priorities for today. We need the generators running again as your first order of business. Everything else takes second place. And I've arranged an appointment for you with Dr Hayman," said Anya, without emotion.

It took Baird a moment to work out what she'd said, because it really wasn't what he'd been expecting.

"What? Why? I'm fine," said Baird.

"You're definitely not fine," said Anya. "You've been going without sleep and I'm worried that the PTSD is getting the best of you."

"I haven't got PTSD," said Baird. It was an automatic statement, and not one that he'd really thought about.

"We've all got PTSD," said Anya. "But we're also all individuals and some of us are finding it harder to deal with than others. There's no shame in needing help. I'm sending the people who are having the most difficulty to Hayman for assessment and she's evaluating them. There's a psychologist at Anvil Gate, and the worst cases are being sent back to the mainland for treatment."

"You want to send me to Anvil Gate? You're kidding me, with all the work that we've got on…"

Anya was already shaking her head. "No, I just said that Hayman was assessing people. I doubt you'll come into the cases that she's sending back to the mainland, they're the ones who are really struggling. I know you're finding it rough, but you're not sat up all night clutching your lancer, ready to shoot anything that moves."

"That makes me feel so much better," replied Baird, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"It really should," said Anya. "Fourteen hundred hours today, be at Hayman's office or I'll put you on report and let Marcus figure out your punishment for wasting the Doctor's time. Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," replied Baird, crossly. "Am I dismissed? I've got a lot of work to get back to."

Anya nodded. "You're dismissed, Corporal."

Baird snatched up his book and stormed out of the office, in a very similar manner to how he'd entered.

* * *

Almost no one liked Anya's new rules for the workshop, least of all Baird's customers, who really didn't understand why Baird wouldn't fix their stuff without Anya's say so. The building engineers weren't happy that they wouldn't get their electrics tested today, the drivers weren't happy that their ATVs might not get fixed, the kitchen wasn't happy because it had a broken stove and Operations weren't happy because Baird had no idea when he'd be getting around to repairing the communications dish. Baird did as Anya said, taking some evil pleasure in telling people who didn't like it to take it up with Lieutenant Stroud, and dealt with the stuff that was urgent. Everything else was put in the book so that Anya could sign it off, once Baird had worked out a recommended work schedule.

Baird spent most of the day being sworn at and was in a thoroughly foul mood by the time it got to fourteen hundred hours and his appointment with Hayman. He hadn't had much time to eat lunch, although Cole had come by with sandwiches for the entire shop, so he'd grabbed one of those. He knew that Cole had only brought the sandwiches to make sure that Baird ate something and so that he could check up on his friend. Baird had barely had time to exchange two words with Cole, let alone show any appreciation for the gesture. The storm had created huge amounts of new work for everyone and he still couldn't believe that Anya was making him go to see the doctor today of all days.

Hayman's office and the Medical Centre had been set up in the purpose built medical facility on Azura that had been installed to treat the ageing population of scientists on the island. It wasn't really designed to deal with the few hundred Gears that now inhabited Azura, and they had lacked space in the early days. Baird had helped them convert some of the nearby labs into additional wards for Gears injured in the battle for the island, but now, almost all the casualties were healed and back on duty. Even after the storm, only one of the extra wards was still operating, but everyone could be happy about there being fewer injured Gears.

The entire suite of rooms was decorated in a minimalist white and grey colour scheme and screamed "hospital" loudly. Baird hated it, as he hated all medical establishments on principle, but hadn't had much cause to visit again once the refit was completed. It was actually pretty well equipped considering it had been used very little by the scientists and they had never anticipated dealing with battlefield injuries, but as with all of Azura, it had been kitted out to deal with any eventuality. The benefit of that was that most of the equipment was unused and therefore brand new and in good working order.

There was still a severe personnel shortage and very little that could be done about that. Hayman was training as many of her subordinates as possible, but it took time because there weren't any medical schools to send them to. If Hayman didn't have the specialist knowledge required to deal with something then all she could do was read a book and hope for the best. They were also rationing drugs carefully, because although Azura had a decent supply, it wouldn't last forever, and who knew if there would ever be any more.

Baird strode into the waiting room, found it empty and knocked on Doctor Hayman's door. He heard the "come in" from within and entered. Doctor Hayman was sat at a ridiculously ornate wooden desk, in a room that looked completely at odds with the pristine medical suite outside. This room had leather armchairs, a deep pile carpet the colour of red wine and dark wood bookcases, filled with leather-bound texts.

Hayman was updating charts and looked up as Baird entered. The large, heavy furniture made her narrow frame look small and delicate, but Baird knew her to be a tenacious individual. Her dark grey hair was tied back in a neat, but severe looking style that echoed her no nonsense approach to medicine. She didn't suffer fools gladly and certainly didn't appreciate time wasters. Ever since Baird had first been treated by her, he'd done his best to avoid ever seeing her again, and that wasn't just because he didn't like being wounded.

"Sit down, Corporal," said Hayman.

"You know I really don't need this. Anya's just got her panties in a bunch about the workshop's workload and this is all part of some power trip that she's on," said Baird, but he took the offered seat.

"I doubt that," said Hayman, flatly. "She's well aware of the limited resources at my disposal."

"Then why is she wasting our time with psychological claptrap? Up until now the COG didn't care if you were unhinged as long as you shot the grubs and not the other Gears in your squad," said Baird.

"I think you may have hit the nail on the head there. The problem is that the mental health of the Gears in the COG has been neglected for so long that it's now become a real problem. Lieutenant Stroud needs her workforce fit and well, and not just physically, if she'd going to rebuild this civilisation of ours." She handed Baird a book, open at a page with a list of questions in it, headed "General PTSD Scale Questionnaire".

"Answer those by allocating a value from one to ten," she continued and looked back at her charts.

Baird just gaped. "Really? You're going to conduct a psychiatric evaluation using a quiz in a book and points from one to ten?"

"I'm an emergency medical practitioner, as you well know, Corporal," said Hayman. "All my other knowledge comes from books and what I can remember of my training in medical school – which as you can probably guess was some considerable time ago. Why should I waste time with an intelligent patient reading out the questions? Doctor Osborne in Anvil Gate has given me the criteria for referral to his care and if you fall into that, I'll let you know. Now, could you please do the test, I have other patients to see today."

Baird frowned but turned to the test on the page. The quicker he did this, the quicker he could get out of here and back to the workshop. Then he could tell Anya that he was fine and everything would slowly make its way back towards normality again, if there was such a thing these days. He looked at the first question "How often are you woken during the night by bad dreams or nightmares?" One was equal to "not at all", whereas ten was "every night", with there being suitable points in between – "occasionally", "a few nights a week", "almost every night". The other questions tackled other aspects of PTSD. "Do you have repeated disturbing images, thoughts or memories from the past?" "Do you experience flashbacks?" "Are you angry and irritable?" "Do you feel distant or cut off from other people?"

Baird looked down the list of questions and realised with horror that, if he was being truthful, then he'd score highly on every single question. He couldn't have that. Hayman would ship him back to Anvil Gate on the next Raven and then he'd spend the rest of his days being poked at by the psychiatrist. His already worthless life would be worth even less than it was now. At least on Azura he could be useful and work hard enough that it could distract him from the worst of the thoughts that swam around his brain.

He went down the list of questions and calculated his score to be around 73. Then he went down them again and made a mental note of some new scores. "45," he finally proclaimed.

Hayman raised an eyebrow. "In which case, you've actually improved markedly since you were last in my care. I hope you're giving me an accurate score, Corporal. I'd have expected some worsening, rather than recovery."

Baird just gave Hayman a withering look. "If you already knew what my score was supposed to be, why did you make me do the test?"

"I assume you're now somewhere up in the seventies?" she waited for a very reluctant nod of confirmation before continuing. "Mostly I wanted confirmation, but the fact that you tried to hide how bad your condition is also tells me something."

"It tells you that I don't like psych evals and I don't want you shipping me off to Anvil Gate just because I get a few nightmares. Which almost everyone around here does, you know?" Baird pointed out, crossly. "This really is a waste of time."

"I wouldn't be doing it if I thought that. I've got plenty of work that I could be doing if I wasn't sat here with you. You'll be pleased to know that you don't score highly enough for me to send you to Anvil Gate because, quite frankly, the island would be empty if I sent everyone who scored under eighty. Turn to the next page," said Hayman.

Baird shook his head in annoyance but did as he was asked because it was the path of least resistance. This page was headed "Depression Assessment".

"Depression? Do I look like I'm about to break down in tears?" asked Baird, with undisguised disgust.

"Depression is nothing to be ashamed about, and would be entirely understandable after everything the soldiers in this army have been through. I very rarely see you in the Mess Hall," said Hayman. "I assume that's because you're busy working, but I also don't see much of you in the recreation facilities. So I have a few additional questions that I'd like you to answer truthfully. Do you enjoy your work?"

Baird's initial reaction to that question was "sure, I love fixing things" but then he thought about the reality of his day to day struggle to drag something, anything, up out of the mire of entropy. He couldn't keep fighting a losing battle with the technology on the island. One day he'd cannibalise the last part from the final vehicle and he'd be done, useless. Nothing about that was enjoyable.

"No," he said, truthfully. "Not anymore."

The answer almost shocked him, it was so starkly honest and he was very rarely so blunt with himself or anyone else when it came to his feelings. He'd become very adept at persuading himself that everything was going to be okay, but he really wasn't. The threat of imminent death was gone, but it had been replaced with a lack of purpose and a crushing darkness that was refusing to abate. Everyone was so damn happy that the grubs and the lambent were gone, but Baird couldn't see where he fitted into the bright new future.

Hayman asked him some more questions, but for him it was the first one that gave him the insight that he needed into his own problem. He answered the rest of the questions just as truthfully, because there seemed no point in lying now.

Hayman made a few notes, before she took back her book and gave Baird her pronouncement.

"I think you're suffering from PTSD, along with ninety nine percent of the population of this island, but you're also severely depressed. They're both concerning mental health conditions, and normally I'd refer you to a specialist to help you. Unfortunately we're going to have to muddle through this together, and I'm going to use that as part of your treatment."

Hayman got to her feet and went to the books on the shelf at the back of the room. She removed a slim volume and handed it to Baird. It was entitled "Non-Clinical Management of Depression" and Baird knew that he was holding an irreplaceable piece of the COG's collective medical knowledge.

"Read it and bring it back," said Hayman, the order in her tone unmistakeable. "Then we'll discuss what you want to do."

"This is such a bad idea," said Baird. "I can't even fix a Packhorse at the moment, let alone myself."

"Perhaps you should try it before you dismiss it," said Hayman.

Baird gave a defeated sigh. "Well I guess I can't make it any worse at this point."

Hayman gave him the slightest of smiles, but it left her lips quickly. "How's your left arm? You reported some discomfort with changes in the weather last time you came in for a check-up. Given our recent storm, I wondered if it was causing you pain."

Baird took a moment to catch up with the change in topic, from his mental well-being to his physical.

"My last check-up was back on Vectes, over a year ago. It's fine, I guess. Like you said, it twinges when there's bad weather and it's definitely weaker than my right side, but I'm right hand dominant so it's fine."

Back before the COG had abandoned Jacinto, Baird had been caught in an explosion during an offensive on Tarla Plain, which had caused several severe injuries. Hayman had operated and saved his life, stitching his insides back together and infusing him with pints of blood to replace what he'd lost. He was in a coma for days before he recovered consciousness in the Maran field hospital. He was then put in danger again when the grubs took the road between Jacinto and Maran, and he was still too ill to be moved and evacuate with the rest of the wounded. Marcus had decided to play hero and drive him back to civilisation himself a few days after the main group left, which did work, but Baird still wasn't sure whether it had been madness or bravery.

The problem was that his entire left side had been showered with shrapnel, and the muscles in his left arm had been torn. They had mostly healed, but the injury had been so severe that Hayman had warned that they might never be completely back to full strength. This was something that he'd never tell the rest of Delta. He couldn't let them see that he had a weakness, who knows what they'd do about it or how they'd treat him. Cole in particular was prone to being over-protective, and Baird didn't want his pity or help.

"Has your range of movement improved?" asked Hayman.

Baird demonstrated. "It's fine. Almost as good as the other side. If I didn't know it was damaged then I'd probably never even notice the difference."

Hayman nodded and made another note. "Keep an eye on it. Normally you'd be on anti-inflammatories for the pain but our drug supplies are extremely low. If it becomes unbearable let me know and I can dispense some emergency painkillers."

Baird got to his feet. "It's not too bad. I can cope. Keep the pills for the people who actually need them."

"Come back and see me again next week, same time," said Hayman. "You can give me your findings then."

Baird raised an eyebrow at her turn of phrase, but nodded in agreement. "Yeah, okay, see you in a week."

* * *

Cole actually approved of Anya's new approach to the Azura workshop at first, because he had a legitimate excuse to remove Baird from the workshop at 6 o'clock every day. He could then make sure that Baird ate a proper dinner. The problem was that Cole then had a bored Baird on his hands, and there was a limit to how many rounds of cards they could play. He'd dragged him out to play thrashball the next evening with the new teams he'd been training up in his spare time, but Baird wasn't exactly suited to the game. The only reason he was there was because Cole had asked him to be, and that was very clear every time the ball was thrown in his direction. Cole gave up and set him to scoring, which was never going to keep him occupied for long.

As Cole found out, Baird simply couldn't stay still, or even sit and relax. He needed to be doing something and Anya had basically cut him off from his drug of choice, so here he was going cold turkey. When he was in the workshop, he was run off his feet, but from watching him, Cole could tell that he'd lost his enthusiasm for fixing things. Mostly Baird was going through the motions and Cole couldn't remember ever seeing him like this before. Being honest, Cole didn't think that Baird had really been his usual self for some weeks before the storm. Cole also knew that Baird still wasn't sleeping, despite no longer needing to stay up late to finish his work.

After three days of this, Cole was at his wits end and so was Baird. The workshop had jobs backing up and it was creating more stress that Baird didn't need. The rest of the island was still busy with repairs and Cole was spending his days putting up scaffolding and helping the building engineers. Then there were preparations for the Allfathers' Day celebrations and everyone was working hard to make it a success, because they really needed something to celebrate. Meanwhile people grumbled about how Baird was slacking off, conveniently ignoring that he was following Anya's orders.

Cole tracked down Anya and Marcus on the south side of the island and decided that he needed a word before this all got out of hand. Anya smiled at him as he approached, whereas Marcus simply gave him a nod.

"Hi Cole," said Anya, turning her attention away from the latest building repairs. "What can I do for you?"

"I need a word about Baird," said Cole, and looked around at the other Gears within earshot. "In private."

Anya met Marcus's eyes for just a second.

"Come on, we'll walk," said Marcus.

They strolled away from the main group, and got well out of earshot before Cole felt confident in talking.

"I don't think this new plan of yours is working. If anything, he's worse than he was."

Anya let out an exasperated sigh. "I sent him to Hayman. I hoped she might be able to help him. I think he's really struggling with his PTSD."

"Did the Doc say what she thinks is wrong?" asked Cole.

Anya shook her head. "She's bound by patient confidentiality. She's not even a psychiatrist, really, she's just doing what she can and referring the worst cases to Osborne at Anvil Gate."

"It'll take a while for anything that she does to work," said Marcus. "Assuming that Baird even listens to her."

"He took Dom's death hard," said Anya.

"We all did," said Marcus.

Cole nodded. "But we're dealing with it."

Anya shot Marcus a look that suggested some of them were dealing with it better than others.

"What else can we do?" asked Anya. "We can't let him work until he drops dead from exhaustion, and I don't think it's helping him to facilitate his avoidance tactics."

"I think we need to get him out of the workshop for a few days," said Cole.

"We could start on the project to repair the communications dish," said Marcus. "It's my crew that's assigned to the heavy lifting and we're about to finish up here, but we need to survey the buildings for the best rooftop to put it on."

"Maybe we should just talk to him," said Anya. "The problem is that none of you will actually say what you're feeling. It's one thing to keep your feelings buttoned down in the middle of a war, but we're not at war anymore."

Cole exchanged a sheepish look with Marcus. Anya might be right. Everyone keeping their feelings bottled up wasn't healthy and maybe this was just what happened as a result. Baird was probably the worst at expressing himself, and caring about anyone or anything was still quite new to the mechanic. Their recent trip to Halvo Bay probably hadn't helped either, especially seeing Paduk again and finding out that Sofia was dead.

"I'll take him up the accommodation block to scout out the new location for the communication dish," said Marcus. "It'll be just the two of us and it's probably better if we don't all corner him together. We'll have privacy and no one'll bother us there."

Cole nodded. "Yeah, sounds like a plan. If this doesn't work, then the three of us can tackle him together."

Anya gave a nod of agreement. "It's about the best idea I've heard so far. This afternoon?"

"Yeah, better get it over with," said Marcus, glancing back towards the building repair teams. "I'll go drag him out of the workshop."

* * *

Baird wasn't at all surprised by Marcus turning up in the workshop and asking him to join him whilst he surveyed the new location for the communications array. The old dish was nearly repaired, and they needed to check out the wiring and mounting points of the new prospective locations. Apparently Anya had given him permission to take Baird away from the workshop, and the wind had died down sufficiently that climbing around on a roof would be safe enough.

He was actually pretty happy to be getting outside, because the workshop just made him realise what a ridiculously stupid losing battle he was fighting with the machinery in this place. JACK was still sat, powered down, in the corner of the workshop, because Baird hadn't had a moment to look at him. Meanwhile half the technology that he was fixing was being mended by taking parts from other things. When Marcus came to get him, he was in the middle of scraping together enough bits and pieces to get the water filtration system up and running again.

It wasn't like he hadn't been in this position before. He'd scavenged parts before just to get JACK operational, but then he'd been working towards something. Now the war was over and the full reality of what life was going to be like was sinking in. But he had to keep going, because people depended on him and he might be broken hearted at JACK's demise and his own approaching obsolescence, but almost everyone else had other things to worry about.

"Where do you want to start?" asked Marcus.

Baird looked down at his scribbled notes, written on the back of an old receipt he'd found in the bottom of a drawer in the workshop. Paper was also in short supply on Azura, so if he needed to make notes then he did it in pencil so that it could be rubbed out and reused, and any scrap of paper that could be found was pressed into service.

"We've got three, maybe four, options. The old building that it was on, but the mounting brackets probably took down part of the wall with them when they were torn out, so maybe not the best option. Or there's the southern accommodation block, the main tower or the labs to the east. The accommodation block's the nearest."

"Okay," said Marcus, and the two of them strode off towards the building in silence. Marcus never said much, but today he was definitely preoccupied with something. Baird was fine with that, because he was trying to run load bearing calculations in his head. Normally he wouldn't have had any trouble, but he was running on four hours sleep and his brain was finding it hard work today.

The building that they were aiming for was one of the original accommodation blocks for the scientists that worked on Azura. It had taken some damage during the battle, but was still structurally sound and only needed minor repairs. Anya had it on her list of buildings that they could expand into as the colony grew. Currently it was surrounded with scaffolding and a few Gears were working on it.

Both Baird and Marcus were quite used to climbing scaffolding by this point, so hit the ladders and made their way to the top. They wore thick gloves to protect their hands and both had their COG issue steel toecap boots on. The roof continued upwards from where the scaffolding finished, and they'd need to put on harnesses and go up ladders that were laid flat to the tiles to get the rest of the way. They were met by a young looking Gear from Theta squad at the top, Private Shaw according to her name tag.

"Hi there, Sergeant Fenix, uh, Corporal Baird. Can I help you?" she asked, putting down her tools for a moment.

"We're just here to see if this would be a good location for the new communications dish," said Marcus. "We'll be out of your way in no time, Private."

"Okay," she said. "Just watch your footing if you're going up to the top. The storm knocked a few things loose up there, and the last ladder probably needs retying."

"I think we can manage that," said Marcus. Baird wasn't really listening, he just wanted to get this finished so that he could move on to the next building.

Private Shaw passed on a few more helpful bits of advice and then got back to her work, leaving Marcus and Baird on their own again.

"Come on," said Baird, clipping up his harness to the guide rope, "I'd like to get this finished sometime today. It's Anya's stupid Allfathers thing tonight and apparently attendance is compulsory."

"For you it is," said Marcus. "It'll be good for you to see some other human beings outside of your workshop."

"Yeah, because I don't have enough to do," said Baird, beginning his climb.

Marcus finished clipping on his own harness and followed Baird up the steep ladder. "We're all busy," said Marcus, "but most of us still find time to sleep and eat."

"It's been three days of Anya's new rules and look how well things are going. It was working better when I didn't sleep and eat," said Baird.

"For everyone except you," said Marcus. "We can afford for you to take time out to eat and sleep, Baird. Nothing's that urgent that you have to kill yourself to get it done. Anya did the right thing when she said you have to leave the workshop and get some rest."

Baird let out an exasperated groan. "You would say that. You're sleeping with her."

They transferred to the second ladder and kept climbing, retying it to the first as they passed the join.

"Cole's been worried about you too," said Marcus, ignoring Baird's attempt to get a rise out of him. "What is up with you at the moment anyway? I'd have thought you'd be happy to have your workshop and finally be doing what you wanted all along."

"This is not what I wanted," said Baird, slightly bewildered that Marcus would even think that it might be. "I did not want to be king of a pile of scrap and cannibalised parts. I wanted to be an engineer working on the cutting edge of science. Instead I'm scavenging for resources and barely keeping stuff going."

"But you are keeping it going," said Marcus. "Without you fixing stuff we'd be in even worse shape than we are now."

"It's all temporary fixes. Who knows how long any of this is going to hold out…" Baird reached the top of the ladder and paused. He'd just realised that he'd rambled on enough that Marcus had actually got out of him the reason why he'd been so down lately, but he'd also caught sight of the view. Azura was beautiful, there was no doubt about it, and seeing it from up here actually made him forget just how hopeless his life was at that moment.

"Wow," said Baird. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the delightful island of Azura, former secret evil lair of Chairman Prescott, now home to several hundred unwashed Gears and their dependants."

The sea positively glittered where it lay surrounding the island, catching the sun on its bright ripples. This was the literal calm following the storm, with only the smallest of breezes ruffling their clothing and the sun warming their backs. If the situation had been different, Azura would have made a wonderful holiday destination.

Marcus also gave himself a moment to take in the view. They were stood on a small flat area, surrounded by a low wall at knee height. A rope ran around the edge, which they had attached their harnesses to. The area was just big enough by Baird's reckoning to put the dish on and all the equipment that went with it, but not much else. It had clearly been battered by the storm and a few tiles were missing, along with some of the roofing felt underneath.

Baird began to look around. "I don't know if there's enough structure up here to mount the dish on." He poked at a hole with his foot. "A few of these boards need replacing too."

"Yeah, doesn't look like it could take any extra weight," agreed Marcus, moving carefully across some uneven tiles. There were a several places where water had pooled following the rain and not yet evaporated in the sun, leaving slippery patches. "This has got to be one of the first buildings they put up here."

Baird's line caught against a sharp edge of broken tile. He turned around to free himself and heard the crack of breaking wood behind him as Marcus' foot went through the roof. Baird turned in time to see Marcus try to steady himself and instead slip on the damp surface. He fell backwards over the low wall with a surprised exclamation and Baird couldn't move fast enough to stop him falling. The harness and line stopped him from tumbling off the roof onto the scaffolding below.

"Damn it," said Marcus, as he slithered down the roof and was stopped abruptly by his rope.

Baird looked over the wall at his dangling friend. "Well that was overly dramatic. If you're going to try bungee jumping then you should really get the proper equipment."

"Just pull me up," ground out Marcus, trying to right himself using the rope and the lip of the roof.

"No problem, boss," said Baird. He went to grab hold of the rope, and found that his own line was still caught. He gave it a tug and got enough slack that he could reach down to grasp the rope. He was glad of the thick gloves as he braced himself and pulled, whilst Marcus pushed himself up so that he could walk up until he was close enough to grab Baird's hand. The mechanic muscled Marcus over the low wall, which promptly gave way at the extra weight. This time it was Baird who toppled over, since he'd been using the wall to brace himself and Marcus' extra weight pulled him forwards sending him sliding down the roof.

Marcus instinctively reached out and caught Baird's left hand just as he slipped, but the Sergeant was in an awkward position, sprawled out and reaching over the rubble of the broken wall.

"This isn't as much fun as it looked," said Baird, as he tried to get purchase on the slick tiles.

He was on his back and his arm was pulled up painfully above his head. To make matters worse, his left arm was reminding him that it was still the weaker of the two. His muscles went into spasm and he couldn't hold on. With a grunt of pain, he rolled down the steep roof and came to a halt at the end of his line.

"Damn it," he said echoing Marcus' statement.

Unfortunately his line had apparently been weakened earlier and the resulting force of his sudden weight on it caused it to snap. He didn't have much time to contemplate what had gone wrong as he slid the rest of the way down the roof and smacked his arm on a scaffolding bracer as he fell. He knew immediately that it was broken, but it had probably stopped him from simply plummeting off the building entirely. He caught a glancing blow to his leg on another pole and landed hard on his back on the wood of the top scaffolding platform. Something metal connected with his head, and he barely heard the shout of "Baird!" from above before he was driven into unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: This chapter comes with the usual "I am not a doctor" warning. I've done my research but there may well be inaccuracies in the medical details despite my best efforts to make them authentic. If you're reading this and you actually are a doctor, let me know where I've gone wrong. Many thanks to my reviewers for their kind words, especially FromAshesBorne for reviewing every chapter so far.

* * *

Marcus had felt time slow painfully as Baird had lost his grip and then fallen to the end of his line. The break of the rope had come just as Marcus was about to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Baird!" he shouted, unable to do anything else as he watched the mechanic tumble down the roof and off the edge. He hit the edge of the scaffolding and then landed hard on the boards of the scaffolding deck. "Medic," he shouted. "Someone get a medic up here!"

He edged around the top section of the roof, moving as quickly as he dared, to get back to the ladders. He threw caution to the wind, put his feet on the sides of the ladder and slid down the first and then the second. Gears who had been working on the building were already congregating around the crumpled form of Baird.

"Don't move him," shouted Marcus, as he dashed over. "Someone call Doctor Hayman."

Private Shaw tapped her communicator and could be heard saying the words "medical emergency", so Marcus was content that was being dealt with. He knelt down by Baird and felt for a pulse. He let out a relieved breath when he found it was there, strong but fast. However, the blond mechanic was unconscious and only breathing shallowly. His right leg had a bad gash in it that was bleeding sluggishly, but the more alarming thing was the blood pouring from the head wound. Marcus had to follow his own advice though, he couldn't move Baird to check the injury. If he'd hurt his spine in the fall then moving him would be the worst thing he could do.

Marcus wasn't sure that he could do anything more until the medical team arrived. Baird was getting paler by the second, and Marcus kept two fingers on his wrist to monitor his pulse. This all reminded him too much of Baird after Tarla Plain, when he'd been Marcus's responsibility to get back to Jacinto Med. This was worse in some ways because Jacinto Med didn't exist now, and he was well aware of the level of care that Hayman could provide. The doctor would do her best, but she was the only fully qualified doctor on Azura and had a small staff.

More basically they had to get Baird down from the scaffolding without injuring him further. There were pulleys set up for lifting equipment into place, and Marcus had the beginning of an idea.

"Shaw, what's the weight rating on that pulley system? Could it take two Gears?"

"Sure," replied Shaw. "You want to winch him down?"

"Yeah, I'll go down with him. We'll need to get him securely strapped once the medics have him stabilised. Can you rig something up, quickly and safely?"

Shaw eyed the pulley. "Yeah, shouldn't be a problem. Jakeman, Rhodes, you heard the sergeant. Move it."

Two of the other Gears began grabbing boards and ropes and pulling in the hooks from the pulley. Marcus was quietly impressed by their efficiency under pressure, but this was the kind of thing that Gears did.

"Hang in there, Baird," murmured Marcus. He couldn't lose another friend, not so close after Dom.

There was a shout of "coming through!" from below as two medics made their way up the scaffolding, with all their equipment. The other Gears were helping by passing up their bags and the backboard stretcher. Finally two Gears wearing the caduceus symbol on their uniform that marked them out as medics, knelt down beside Marcus.

"I'm Corporal Thompson," said the first one. "This is Private Jensen. What happened?" he asked as he took Baird's pulse.

"He fell from up there," said Marcus, with a jerk of his head towards the roof's highest point. "Caught the scaffolding on the way down."

The two medics carefully snapped on a cervical collar around Baird's neck and pulled open his clothes enough that they could attach a monitor to his chest as they checked him over.

"What's his name?"

"Corporal Damon Baird," said Marcus, a little surprised that they didn't recognise their patient. The medic did react to the name though, clearly they'd heard of him.

"Has he been unconscious since it happened? No response at all?"

"Nothing," said Marcus.

"Damon? Can you hear me, Damon? Squeeze my fingers if you can hear me," said the medic. He got no response.

"Left arm is definitely broken," said Jensen. "Right leg could be too, but we'll need to x-ray it to be sure."

"Looks like a nasty head wound," said Thompson. "Possible fractured skull. Let's get him immobilised on the backboard and then we can deal with the rest."

Marcus took a step back, making sure he was out of their way as they worked and got Baird onto the backboard. He was strapped down very securely with his head and neck encased in foam rubber, bandaged and taped in place. They weren't risking anything.

Baird chose this moment to groan and blink his eyes open. Marcus could see the moment he realised that he couldn't move and began to panic. His eyes searching around him, taking in everything that he could without being able to move his head.

"Hey there, Damon," said the medic. "You've had a bad fall but we're taking care of you and you'll be on your way to the medical centre in no time."

"What?" came the whispered response.

Marcus knelt down beside Baird. "Baird, it's okay. Just let the medics do their work."

"What happened?" asked Baird. The appearance of Marcus seemed to make him relax just a little. "Why can't I move?"

"You fell off the roof. Your line broke. They've got you strapped on a backboard," said Marcus.

"Just a precaution," said Thompson.

"Hurts," said Baird.

"Where?" asked Thompson.

"Leg, arm. Got one hell of a headache," said Baird.

Jensen uncapped a needle and stabbed Baird in the shoulder with it. "That should take the edge off until we can get you back to the Med Centre and give you something stronger."

"No," said Baird. "Not getting addicted again. Marcus, don't let them give me…"

Baird's eyes blinked heavily and drifted shut again.

"Baird?" asked Marcus urgently. "Come on stay with us."

But Baird's eyes remained closed.

"Regaining consciousness, even for a short time, is usually a good thing," said Thompson, and got back to work.

It was only once Baird's condition was stabilised to their satisfaction that they began looking at how best to get Baird off the building. Luckily Marcus already had that covered, and Shaw and her team had a sling ready to take the stretcher. It was over engineered, with more ropes that they really needed to hold two men, but Marcus appreciated their cautious approach.

At first Corporal Thompson wasn't keen on letting Marcus be winched down with Baird, preferring to go himself, but Marcus made it clear that he wasn't letting Baird out of his sight until he got to the Medical Centre. Thompson was outranked and gave in. No one had forgotten that it was Marcus Fenix who had killed the Locust Queen and Damon Baird has been standing there with him.

Baird was carefully lifted up and attached to the pulley system, with Marcus harnessed up beside him. The two of them were very gently lowered to the ground, with Marcus checking the spin and ensuring they didn't make contact with the side of the scaffolding or the ground too hard. It was a few minutes work to get the two of them unhooked and then get Baird loaded into the waiting ATV and on his way to the Medical Centre. It was only then, as they drove gingerly along the bumpy roads, that Marcus thought to call Anya and let her know what had happened.

* * *

The stupid thing about the accident was that it was just that, an accident. Baird had made it through seventeen years of war, with the Locust shooting at him on a daily basis, only to fall off the roof of a building. The irony was not lost on either of the two members of Delta who were sat in the Medical Centre's waiting room to hear about Baird's condition. But irony didn't make the waiting any easier, and they had a long wait. If anything it made matters worse, because finally everyone was working towards a society without war and they shouldn't have needed to be worrying about injured team mates any more.

In many ways, Baird had been remarkably lucky, for starters he was still breathing when the med evac team arrived. He also hadn't fallen as far as he could have done, because the building had been surrounded by scaffolding. Their initial x-rays and scans had found no spinal injuries, so he was in the clear there. The less lucky part was hitting his head on one of the bolts that held the scaffolding together, which meant that he now had a depressed skull fracture and needed immediate surgery. His other injuries, whilst severe enough to warrant hospitalisation on their own, were more easily treated, and less life threatening. The broken arm was a clean break, the leg might require pinning, but would be dealt with after the surgery to the head injury.

Anya did her best to comfort Marcus, because she knew that he was blaming himself. It hadn't been his fault, but from what Marcus had told her, it was because Baird had been stopping Marcus from falling that he had fallen himself. She'd always assumed that Baird had too much of a self-preservation instinct for those sorts of heroics, but it appeared that she was wrong about that. She suspected that she wasn't the only one either.

Cole came bursting in through the door. "What happened? Where's Baird? Is he okay?"

He took one look at Anya and Marcus' faces and seemed to know that things weren't good. "Shit. How bad is it?"

"It's bad. He fell when he and Marcus were working on the roof. He's in surgery. Hayman's dealing with a depressed skull fracture. He's got a broken arm and a broken leg, but they're not the problem…" said Anya, not really wanting to continue.

"It's either the head injury or the surgery to fix it that's going to kill him," said Cole, solemnly. "I thought you were just going out to survey sites for the communications dish?"

"We were," said Marcus, speaking for the first time since Cole had arrived. "We took all the proper safety precautions. I stepped on a rotten board and ended up dangling on my tether. Baird pulled me up, but his tether got caught on something sharp. It cut through his line whilst he was hauling me back up. He got me back up on the roof, but the wall he was using to brace himself gave way. It must have been weak already, and he fell. I tried to grab him…" Marcus shook his head.

Anya put a hand on Marcus' shoulder, knowing how hard this was for him. He protected people, and when he failed in that, he felt it deeply.

"We'll need an investigation," he continued. "We should have checked the roofing better after the storm, it was old and dangerous. We shouldn't have been up there on our own. And I shouldn't have let him pull me back up by himself. It was my fault. I was in charge."

Cole's expression was grim, but Anya could see that he clearly didn't agree. He was shaking his head. "None of us are experts in building maintenance or scaffolding or even climbing around on scaffolding. Besides if Baird wanted to do something then he'd have done it, whether you told him to or not."

Anya squeezed Marcus' shoulder, and their eyes met for a moment. He let out a long breath, but didn't seem any less agitated. Marcus tended to shut himself down in difficult moments, something that he'd probably picked up from his father. She didn't want him to do that now, she needed him to stay with them and not shut her out. They were still getting the hang of their new relationship, which had been put on hold for such a long time. This was what relationships were for, though, to have another person to lean on in difficult times. She had to make him understand that they could deal with this together, because she was just as worried about Baird as he was.

"Do the rest of Delta know?" asked Cole. Delta usually meant Marcus, Cole, Baird, Anya, Clay Carmine, Sam Byrne and Jace Stratton – only four of them were here and the rest would want to know what had happened.

"I didn't think…" said Anya, reaching for her com.

Marcus stopped her. "No, I'll go in person and let them know, better that than hearing over a com link. Sam will want to be here and Carmine and Jace won't want to be left out of the loop."

Anya nodded, knowing that Marcus was telling her to let them have just a little more time without worrying about an injured team mate, but it would be all over the island soon enough and he didn't want them to hear it from someone else. Marcus reluctantly left the room to take care of informing the others.

Cole gave him a nod as he left, and he took a seat heavily. Anya could see that he'd come straight from the building where he'd been working. He still had the dust from the rubble clearance on his clothes.

They waited, and about twenty minutes later Sam Byrne arrived.

"Marcus told me what happened. Has there been any news?" asked Sam.

Anya just shook her head.

"I guess we're going to be here a while then," she said and sat down next to Cole. She pulled out a very tatty mystery novel from her back pocket and began to read, although Anya noticed that she never turned the page.

Marcus came back about ten minutes after that. "I told Carmine and Jace to keep working. There didn't seem much point in having all of us here."

He took his seat again, staring into space, and they continued to wait. Occasionally Anya would have to leave the room to deal with some minor logistical emergency that someone needed her advice on. The Allfathers celebrations were supposed to be tonight and so much still had to be done. She couldn't help but feel that it was unimportant now, and was wondering if she should cancel it. When she said as much to the others, they didn't seem to think cancelling it would accomplish anything. They might even need it more with word spreading about Baird's fall.

Eventually Doctor Hayman stepped into the room. She was wearing scrubs so had probably come straight from surgery.

"Well, the good news is that he survived the surgery," she said and there was a collective sigh of relief from everyone present. "I wouldn't get your hopes up though, he's suffered a traumatic brain injury which included bleeding into the brain. Getting him here as quickly as you did improved his chances, but he's still in critical condition and there's a high risk of a wound infection. I had to remove pieces of his skull from the fracture site and he's got a brand new metal plate in his head to show for his misadventure. Brain damage is a real possibility and I'm going to keep him sedated for a while to give him a better chance of healing. But you should prepare yourself for the eventuality that he might not wake up when the sedation is removed."

"But he was awake for a few minutes, while the medics were getting him stabilised," said Marcus.

"The internal bleeding probably wasn't as bad at that point and the cranial pressure was lower. Head injuries are unpredictable, Sergeant," said Hayman.

No one spoke for several long moments.

"Can I see him?" asked Cole.

"He's in recovery," said Hayman. She sounded tired and Anya wasn't surprised by that, she'd been operating on Baird for several hours. "It'll be about half an hour before he's ready to be moved through to a room. I'm monitoring his intra-cranial pressure carefully and that should give us some idea of how severe an injury we're dealing with. Once he's out of recovery, you're welcome to sit with him."

"I'll go and change out of my work clothes," said Cole. "I'll be back in ten."

"There's no hurry, Private Cole," said Hayman.

"All the same, I'll be back in ten and then I'll wait right here until I can see him," replied Cole, heading for the door.

"I'll keep your seat warm," said Sam.

"I've got to go and finish the preparations for the Allfathers' feast," said Anya, getting to her feet. "I really wish I could stay, but I can't let the entire thing fall apart because I wasn't there. If we're not going to cancel it then I still have to put in an appearance too. I'll check back in when I've got a spare moment."

"It's okay," said Sam. "Someone has to keep this place running. We can't all be sat around here waiting for Baird to open his eyes and make a sarcastic remark."

"Call me if there's any change at all," said Anya. "Even if it's the middle of the night."

"Will do," said Sam, getting her book out again.

Marcus was still staring off into the distance and hadn't moved. Anya knelt down in front of him, knowing that he was thinking about all the other people he'd lost – Carlos, Dom, Tai, his father. She put her hands on his, and met his dark blue eyes.

"He's getting the best care possible," said Anya.

"I know," said Marcus gruffly.

Anya gave him a long look but she knew him well enough to know that nothing she could say would help at the moment. She looked down and with a nod, she stood and left the waiting room. He'd wait until there was more news. Marcus had to do this, and she had to let him.

* * *

Baird was moved out of the recovery room and into an area that was analogous to an Intensive Care Unit in a larger hospital. Cole supervised the move, along with Sam and Marcus, who all had something of a moment when they got to see Baird for the first time following surgery.

Even if Hayman hadn't told him that Baird was in bad shape, Cole would have known by the ashen complexion and unnatural stillness. He was entwined in wires to monitor his condition and tubes to help keep him alive and stable. Part of his blond hair had been shaved to expose the site of the skull fracture, towards the back left side, and stitches stood out on the angry, puckered skin that had been revealed. The ventilator that was helping Baird to breathe completed the picture of someone who was severely ill, although Hayman had said it was mainly because she had Baird on heavy sedation. The head of the bed was raised, which apparently helped with reducing the high pressure in Baird's skull that seemed to be concerning Hayman the most at the moment. Baird's brain needed time to heal, and hopefully everything that Hayman was doing would work and his friend would wake up when the sedation was removed.

There was a plaster cast on Baird's left arm and the right leg had been splinted with what Cole could only describe as a strange cage-like thing. It had a number of thin metal pins that actually went into the leg and through the bones, affixing on both sides into what appeared to be a Meccano ring of metal. Hayman explained that it would help the bones to knit correctly and allow the external wound to heal. Without it they would have needed to insert pins into the leg and couldn't have used a cast until the open wound had healed.

Baird was also on a variety of drugs, mostly to keep him sedated and pain-free but also other things to help his brain heal. As per his broken request at the site of his accident, which Marcus had dutifully passed on, they were being careful about which painkillers they used. Hayman had talked about anti-convulsants to prevent seizures, which were apparently common in traumatic brain injury cases during the early stages of recovery.

Cole didn't like hearing about it all, but he listened because Baird was his friend and he needed to know all the details of his condition. Marcus and Sam were there with him and the three of them now had a good idea of how long it would be before Hayman would even consider taking Baird off sedation. They were looking at days rather than hours, and Cole was secretly glad that he had the moral support of the two other members of Delta, because he didn't want to deal with this on his own.

After that, Hayman was right, there was no hurry. They were all playing a waiting game. Hayman would keep monitoring Baird closely and when his brain pressure had decreased sufficiently, and if his vital signs were good enough, she would make the call to take him off sedation. Until then, there wasn't much that they could do, so the three of them made up a rota. Cole would take first shift, Sam would take the second and Marcus the third. They were all used to guard duty at some point so this was no different.

Cole knew Marcus desperately needed rest, so he'd pressured him into taking the third shift. He could see the guilt settling on his friend's shoulders and he wished he could alleviate it somehow, but he also knew that words wouldn't do it at the moment. Getting Marcus to leave the medical centre was an achievement in itself, so he'd take that small victory and run with it.

Cole began talking to the unconscious man beside him and didn't stop until Sam turned up for her shift four hours later. His voice was hoarse by that point and he barely even knew what he was talking about anymore.

"Any change?" asked Sam.

Cole shook his head.

"Go get some sleep. You look like you could use it," said Sam.

Cole nodded and got to his feet. Just as he did so the machines that monitored Baird began to beep urgently. Baird went rigid and then started to shudder just as Hyman and Jensen entered the room. Cole felt like he should be doing something but had no idea what, and Sam was equally immobile beside him.

Hayman was giving instructions to Jensen that Cole had no hope of understanding, and he passed the doctor a syringe filled with something. She injected it into Baird's IV port. The shudders had become full blown convulsions, with Baird writhing in the bed. Suddenly it all seemed to stop and Baird was still and limp again. The monitors calmed down and slowly returned to their normal rhythm.

"Oh my god," said Sam.

"What the hell was that?" asked Cole.

"I mentioned that seizures were common in traumatic brain injury cases," said Hayman.

"You said you had him on medication to stop that from happening," said Cole.

"Apparently we need to increase the anti-convulsant dosage, or change to a different one," replied Hayman. She and Jensen were checking Baird over and taking note of his vital signs.

"That can't be good for him," said Sam.

"It isn't," said Hayman. "But an injured brain produces these anomalies, and I'm doing my best to manage them."

"Is that going to keep happening?" asked Cole.

"Hopefully not if we find the right combination of drugs to control it," said Hayman.

"And when he wakes up?" asked Sam. "Is he still going to have seizures then?"

"If the brain heals well, then hopefully not," replied Hayman.

"That isn't a "no"," said Sam. "He could keep having them?"

"In most cases, they resolve themselves. In a small minority the patient develops post traumatic epilepsy. It's impossible to know this early after an injury what will happen. I'd suggest we all concentrate on simply keeping him alive at this point."

Cole had no idea what to say to any of that. He shook his head, and exchanged a worried look with Sam. She took the seat that Cole had been sitting in.

She looked up at Cole. "I've got this, Cole. I'll call if it happens again, but I meant it when I said you look like you need sleep."

He doubted he'd manage sleep now, but he had to try because he'd be no use to Baird if he was too tired to function. Cole wasn't known as a patient man and he was well aware that the next few days were going to be an agony of waiting. If he could make the time pass slightly faster by sleeping, then that actually sounded like quite a good plan.

"Okay," said Cole. "I'll see you tomorrow."


	5. Chapter 5

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: More medical stuff in this chapter, plus Baird being his usual pleasant self so a warning that there is some swearing. Thanks to my reviewers. It always makes my day when I get a review.

* * *

Baird wouldn't have known what to do with the information that he was never alone during his unconsciousness. He had no idea that Cole talked to him non-stop, or that Sam read to him from her novel, or that Marcus sat silently at his side. He had no knowledge of Anya updating him on Corporal Brennan's management of the workshop, or Carmine detailing his third date with the Gear from Beta squad, or even Jace quietly apologising for giving him a hard time. None of that penetrated the fog of his departed awareness.

Baird quite simply knew nothing of anything in the outside world. He didn't even begin to dream until several days had passed, although he had no knowledge of how much time had gone by. Baird's dreams weren't pleasant for the most part. He'd seen too much and learnt too much over the years for them to be anything but the darkest shadows of his mind coming out to play.

He found himself stuck inside the Locust prison cylinder, with no way out. In real life he'd been found by the other members of Delta and they'd gone on to find out what "processing" prisoners meant to the Locust. In his dream he was stuck there until the Locust came back for him and took him deep into the Hollow. There they forced him to work on their technology and fix their organic weapons. It was all kind of disgusting and gross, and never ending. Sometimes he'd fix something and then he'd watch the Locust drones use it to kill Gears, usually a squad that included Cole, Marcus, Dom and Sam, but occasionally he'd have to watch any of Anya, Jace, Tai, Paduk, Sofia, Tanner or the Carmine brothers die. Dead Gears tended to crop up in his dreams a lot.

A few times the dream would let him cobble something together out of scraps and spare parts and escape into the tunnels. He'd run along the tunnels desperately searching their gloomy depths for some way out until he came across some monster grub that would tear him to pieces, or he'd just keep searching until he awoke, feeling less rested than when he went to sleep. He was pretty sure by this point that his subconscious was just torturing him for being an annoying dick to his friends and he probably deserved every bad dream he'd ever had.

However, although they were tough competition, the dreams of Locust prisons weren't the worst. The worst ones were the images of his family home and parents. When Baird's brain really wanted to punish him, he'd be in the Locust cylinder one moment and the next he'd be in the cupboard that his father used to shut him in when he'd committed some infraction of the house rules.

Baird hated the memory of the cupboard, and the mild claustrophobia it induced in him still even as a grown man and a soldier. He'd been seven when his father had locked him in there overnight, and it wasn't a memory he wanted to relive, ever, but some nights it was all his brain would show him. All he'd done was ask if he could have his friends over for a small party for his birthday rather than the traditional grand, and dull, family banquet to celebrate the heir to the Baird fortune living another year. He never asked again and always hated his birthday for the memories that it inevitably dredged up, made worse by it being coupled to the grand celebrations for Allfathers' Day.

Baird didn't even really know that he was dreaming this time though, he was so deeply unconscious. He was also unaware that on day five after the accident Hayman reduced the sedation, but after that it was like sunlight filtering through pond water. Baird began to perceive that he existed again, and that there was something going on outside him. He started dreaming less depressing things, usually happier memories of his friends and in those dreams he heard voices, far away but familiar. They got closer until one of them actually said something that he could understand:

"Hey there, Baird, are you going to sleep all day again? 'Cause this is kind of getting old now."

Cole. It was definitely Cole, but he sounded weird. He tried to say his friend's name but it just came out as a groan.

"Baird?" the question was a little surprised sounding as if he hadn't really expected any kind of response to his previous ones. "Are you back with us, baby?"

Baird frowned, his forehead crinkling in deep thought. He couldn't remember what was going on, but he could smell disinfectant and hand soap which usually meant a hospital. His eyelids felt too heavy to move, he really just wanted to sleep.

"Come on Baird, just squeeze my hand if you're in there," said Cole.

Baird felt the warmth of someone's hand in his own on the right side. He squeezed. He heard the reassuring sound of a trademark whoop of joy from his friend.

"That's it, baby. I knew you were on the way back to us," said Cole.

Baird wished he had the energy to stay longer, but he didn't. He squeezed Cole's hand again just to let him know that it wasn't just coincidence. Then he slipped back into the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

When he came back to awareness again later, he knew that time had passed but he had no idea how much. Cole's voice and warm touch had gone, but it had been replaced with someone speaking in a very familiar accent. The woman sounded as if she was reading something out loud and it took him a few moments to place her as Sam.

Once again he tried to speak, but it was too much to ask of his vocal chords. He again only managed a groan and a hissed "sssmmm".

The reading stopped. He twitched his hand in the hope that she'd see it and realise that he was trying very hard to move or do something, anything to let her know that he could hear her.

"Baird?" she asked, in a slightly surprised but hopeful tone. "Come on you lazy asshole, it's past time that you woke up."

He was trying, he really was. He twitched his fingers again and was rewarded by them being taken and clasped firmly in two hands.

"Come on, blondie, just open your eyes for me," said Sam. "I know you've got it in you. It's got to be pretty dull, all this sleeping."

Baird didn't really think about it this time, he just opened his eyes and blinked at the too bright lights. It took a while for him to even persuade his eyes to focus. He tried again to form a word, but it was so hard.

"Sam?" he whispered, his voice as dry as sand and just as rough.

"Took you long enough," she said, but the ridiculous smile on her face took all the sting from her words. "Welcome back, Damon. You had us all kind of worried for a while there."

He just looked at her for a bit, not really sure what to say or even if he _could_ say more. He vaguely noted her hand press a button at the side of the bed, before it returned to clasping his. He was definitely in a hospital, but it was at least a friendly one. He wished he could remember what had happened to land him here. He attempted to form some kind of coherent words, something that would make sense and get him information on what was going on here.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Turned out your skull isn't as thick as everyone thought it was."

Baird rolled his eyes and winced slightly at the motion. That really wasn't an answer and suggested some evasion on her part. He was so tired, even though he'd only been awake seconds. He felt slightly bad about sleeping now with Sam here, clearly wanting to talk to him, but the urge to close his eyes again was irresistible.

"Tired," he said, and blinked heavily.

"It's okay, it's going to take a while for you to get back to your old annoying self. Go to sleep, one of us will be here when you wake up again."

"'kay," said Baird and his eyes fell shut again just as other figures entered the room.

He heard Sam say something and then: "…he opened his eyes and said my name. Then he asked what happened, and fell asleep again…"

Baird didn't hear what the reaction was to this, but Sam seemed strangely excited by all of this. It really hadn't seemed like a big deal to him. He drifted under again.

* * *

Cole was around the next time that Baird opened his eyes, but he didn't seem to really know what was going on. He recognised Cole, but was only awake for seconds before he fell asleep again. This was a pattern that repeated itself for several days. Baird would wake up, mutter a few words and then fall asleep again. He didn't seem to remember every time he awoke or much of what he said, but the real world was slowly encroaching upon his long sleep. Eventually he woke up and was able to stay awake for more than a few seconds, then it was minutes and he began to have conversations that were more than just a few words.

Cole and the rest of Delta celebrated, because Baird was alive and responsive. However things definitely weren't right. Hayman had classed the head injury as "severe", which, as far as Cole could tell, meant that things were bad but not as bad as they could have been. She had warned them about the possibility that Baird would have memory difficulties and that he might not know them, but Baird had already proven that one wrong. He knew Sam and he knew Cole. They needed to test him out with everyone else, but this suggested that he had at least some functioning memory.

Of course, they knew that he wasn't out of the woods yet and that it was going to take a while before he'd be awake long enough to really find out what he remembered. The important thing as far as Cole was concerned was that he knew that Cole was Cole and Baird was Baird. From their brief interactions so far, Baird's personality appeared intact and as abrasive as ever. He'd already proven that with his less than enthusiastic remarks when it came to hospitals.

"Why am I stuck here?" he'd asked in one of his lucid moments.

"You fell off a roof," said Cole.

"What the fuck was I doing on a roof?" he wanted to know.

"You and Marcus were scouting out a new location for the communications array," replied Cole.

"Azura?" asked Baird. "Are we on Azura?"

"Yeah, that's right," replied Cole. He was used to Baird framing facts as questions by this point to test if his knowledge was correct.

"Who's Marcus?"

That both surprised and alarmed Cole, and he couldn't help but frown. The important thing was that he remained calm and did not start getting Baird agitated. It wasn't an easy task when apparently Baird didn't remember who Marcus Fenix was.

"Our squad leader. He killed the Locust Queen."

"There was a Locust Queen?" asked Baird, meaning he'd forgotten a substantial part of his own research into the grubs. The loss of Marcus from his memory was more worrying, though.

"Yeah, her name was Myrrah," said Cole. "The ultimate bitch from hell and then some."

Baird nodded and blinked heavily, indicating that he was about to fall asleep again, which he did a few moments later.

Cole knew that his friend was struggling to recover his memories. Some stuff was there and other stuff just wasn't, or perhaps it was just buried more deeply than some other things. Cole worried incessantly about what Baird did and did not remember, but the others did their best to put a good spin on things. Even Sam had tried to explain Baird's memory holes. "He's just a bit confused after being asleep for a week and a bit" or "he needs some time to get everything shuffled back into the right places".

He wished he could be as optimistic as the Kashkuri.

Days passed and, finally, Baird could manage a whole hour awake, which was when Hayman decided to give him the full explanation of his condition. The mechanic was less than happy.

The broken arm he could deal with, it would take several weeks to heal but it would be fine, the broken leg was worse but it would still heal given time. The head injury he was less okay with. He'd already noticed that some names were escaping him and he was worried about what else had been affected. He didn't say that, but Cole knew Baird well enough to understand what was bothering him.

"You've got tests to do, right?" asked Baird. He was smart, so Cole wasn't surprised that he would understand how this usually worked.

"Of course," said Hayman. "You seem to be able to understand us so that's a definite positive. I gather that you're still having a bit of trouble with names."

"Yeah, some. I recognise people but I can't always get the name to go with the face."

"You had an injury to the parietal lobe. It is concerned with integrating sensory input as one of its functions, so that may be why you're having trouble. It also plays a role in sensation and perception, so we should watch out for anomalies in those areas too. Damage can result in various disorders, so there are some tests we can do to rule those out."

Baird sighed. He was looking tired again. Hayman began her tests, asking more questions as she went, testing reflexes and vision, and all sorts of other things that Cole didn't really understand. Baird played along for the most part only getting annoyed in a couple of places.

"Hey, is seeing spots, a symptom of any of those "various disorders" you mentioned?" Baird asked.

Hayman frowned. "What kind of spots?"

"Bright, multi-coloured, flickering in and out like disco lights," said Baird.

"Have these spots been here all the time or did they appear just now?" asked Hayman.

"They started while we were talking," said Baird.

"It may be that the injury is affecting your vision," said Hayman. "Is it one eye or both?"

Baird frowned at her as if he hadn't heard her.

"Can you understand what I'm saying, Corporal?"

Again, Baird just looked puzzled. "I have no idea what you just said. What language are you speaking?"

Cole was about to ask what the hell was going on, when Baird's eyes rolled back in his head and he began to seize. The heart monitor beeped loudly and Hayman was quick to make sure that anything that Baird could have hurt himself on was out of the way of his thrashing. She didn't reach for any medication this time though.

"Aren't you going to do something?" asked Cole, urgently. "He's not breathing!"

"There isn't much else that I can do, Private," replied Hayman. "The anti-convulsants are not for use once sedation is withdrawn. All I can do is make sure he can't hurt himself and hope that this resolves itself. If the seizures continue then we'll have to consider long term medication – and I'm sure you can foresee all the difficulties that might entail given our limited medical supplies."

The seizure lessened and eventually the tremors running through Baird's body stopped. This allowed Baird to start breathing again. Cole was, again, slightly horrified, both at the seizure and what Hayman had just said.

"You said they weren't good for him. Could they kill him?" asked Cole.

"If they're bad enough and often enough," said Hayman. "But it's still early days and I'll remind you that seizures can resolve themselves as the brain heals." She got out a penlight and pulled back one of Baird's eyelids so that she could test his eye response. With a cloth, she wiped the flecks of spittle and blood from around his mouth, probably caused by his teeth catching the side of his mouth.

Cole fretted, pacing at the end of the bed. It took a while for Baird to come round, but eventually he moved his hands and his eyes flickered open. He stopped pacing and turned back towards his friend as he heard Hayman start speaking.

"Corporal Baird? Can you hear me?" asked Hayman. "You're in the Azura medical centre."

Cole wondered why Hayman was bothering with information that Baird already knew.

"Yeah, I can hear you just fine. What happened?"

"You had a seizure," said Hayman.

"I had a seizure?" asked Baird, incredulously and strangely echoing the doctor's words. He was gawping at Hayman like she'd said the most ridiculous thing in the world. He closed his eyes for a moment. "I feel terrible."

"Unfortunately that is often the after effect of a seizure," said Hayman. "The muscles are worked hard by the constant muscle contractions."

Baird asked the question that Cole had asked after the first seizure. "Is this going to keep happening?"

"At this early stage, we can't tell. You may recover completely or you may develop post-traumatic epilepsy," said Hayman, never one to mince her words.

"Great, just great," said Baird. "Look, I'm tired. Why don't you all get the hell out of here and leave me alone. Go on, I'm done with twenty questions for the day."

He closed his eyes, sounding worn and tired. Cole knew when best to leave things be. Baird needed some space to deal with this and they had to let him have it. Cole gave him a light tap on the shoulder.

"Okay, baby, but I'll be back tomorrow. If you need anything between now and then, you send one of them nurses out to get me, okay?"

Baird opened his eyes long enough to look up at Cole. "Sure. Whatever."

His eyes fell shut again, and Cole knew that something had shifted here, but he wasn't certain what it was. When Sam arrived two hours later for her turn of sitting with Baird, the medics turned her away. Baird had awoken again at some point and given them instructions that he didn't want more visitors. The first thing that Sam did was call Cole and then he called Marcus. This resulted in both of them stomping down to the Medical Centre to read everyone the riot act. It didn't go down well.

Hayman took the safety and comfort of her patients very seriously, which included their freedom to ask for no visitors. It didn't matter that Baird had a head injury, or that he'd only recently regained consciousness, or anything else. He was considered to be in sound enough mind to decide such things for himself. If he didn't want to see them then that was that. Whoever was on duty would let Baird know that people wanted to see him, but he could turn them away if he wanted to, right up until the day he was discharged.

Cole and Marcus were fuming, Sam was raging at the medical staff and Anya was trying to pull rank in any way that she could. None of it worked. It continued like this for days, with members of Delta turning up at the Medical Centre only to be told to go away again. Hayman stood her ground and Baird was stubborn to a fault. No amount of messages passed via the medics got him to change his mind – he didn't want to see anyone. Eventually everyone apart from Cole gave up, but he still wasn't allowed to see his friend.

Cole made a daily morning pilgrimage to the Medical Centre only to hear that "no, Baird doesn't want any visitors today". He knew that Baird couldn't hide forever and he also knew that if he was going to crack then it would be Cole that he'd want to see. The two of them had been friends since the early days of the war. They'd been through bad times and good, and this wasn't going to be the end of their friendship. So for now he'd play the waiting game – no one was going to beat Augustus Cole, not even their resident blond genius.

* * *

Baird's entire world had narrowed to a hospital bed in the Azura medical centre. He was becoming more lucid with each passing day, but still sleeping a lot more than would have been normal. Hayman told him to expect to be easily tired for some time to come, and didn't that just fill him with joy and happiness.

Baird hated the weakness and the fact that he couldn't move because of the broken leg, and the head injury. At first, even tilting his head led to excruciating pain flooding across his skull. Hayman had him on pain medication, but as per his vehement instructions it wasn't the strong stuff that he'd got addicted to at Maran field hospital after he'd been wounded. This meant it needed more careful monitoring and regular re-dosing if he wanted to stay pain free. Sometimes he just preferred to be lucid and in pain, because it was easier than reaching for the call button. Things did get better though and the headaches improved as time passed.

Every day he got a message saying that someone was here to see him and would he take visitors? He always answered "no" because he just couldn't deal with his friends seeing him like this. The only useful part of Baird, as far as he was concerned, was his brain, and now that was malfunctioning.

He had seizures most days. Hayman had rather reluctantly diagnosed Post Traumatic Epilepsy, and started trying to find a way to control the seizures, although she had made the point again that it could get better. Baird wasn't optimistic. His healing brain was crosswired and Baird was, quite frankly, embarrassed. He didn't want Cole to be there when he started jerking around like a mad man, and then couldn't remember his own name for several minutes when he came round. He didn't want to be laughed at or pitied.

His inability to recognise faces and put the right names to them did seem to be getting better, but Hayman's cognitive tests had revealed some difficulties with reading, and to a lesser extent, writing, that suggested Baird had developed dyslexia. It was apparently a common result of damage to the parietal lobe, and Hayman had already suggested ways to help with it, but to Baird it was disastrous. If he couldn't read quickly then how was he going to be able to absorb all those technical manuals in the Azura library. He wouldn't be able to read reports or schematics. In short, he couldn't do many of the things that he needed to in order to do his job.

In the pre-Azura days, Baird would have been given a medical discharge after a diagnosis of epilepsy, but he had no idea what Anya would do. The COG wasn't exactly the military machine that it had once been and they still needed every man that they had. He didn't think that being in charge of the machine shop was still on the cards, but perhaps they could use him to run errands, or scavenge for parts, or something. There was probably still something menial that Baird could do, but he wouldn't be allowed to drive or carry a firearm, which ruled out a lot of jobs. He seriously considered just resigning, because it would be easier on everyone.

The longer Baird lay in bed with only his own thoughts to keep him company, the worse his mind made the situation. By the time it came to Hayman discharging him from the medical centre, he'd worked himself into a deep dark depression that was worsening by the day. When he discovered that the broken arm meant that he'd be confined to a wheelchair until the arm healed enough that he could manage crutches, he was less than happy. Wow, his life could not get any worse at this moment. He'd wanted to sneak out of the medical centre and hide in his room, but that really wasn't going to happen.

He swallowed his pride, because what other option did he have? He was just going to have to ask for help.

* * *

Anya excelled at both logistics and people management, and the inhabitants of Azura had realised very quickly that she was exactly what they needed at the moment. Marcus might have led the charge to victory, but he was a warrior and always would be. He had very little idea how to deal with the peacetime problems of supply and man-power. Anya had grown into her new job as leader of the Azura colony, and things were working pretty well. However, she now had a new problem. She needed to create temporary wheelchair access into a place that had clearly never been designed to be accessed by a wheelchair.

Baird's workshop was the easy bit, it had large shutters that were supposed to admit vehicles. Getting Baird, in his wheelchair, into the building would be fine. Doors into other parts of the building were narrow but not so narrow that a wheelchair couldn't fit. If the wheelchair had been permanent then she'd have enlisted engineering help to widen the doorways, but hopefully once Baird's broken leg healed then he wouldn't need it anymore.

The less easy part was the roads around Azura, which were barely walkable after the storm and were still being repaired over two weeks later. She'd prioritised a path between the workshop and the main buildings when Baird had originally been hospitalised. It had always been a possibility that he'd have mobility problems, but the nice smooth path that she'd planned wasn't going to be ready for today's release. She wanted and needed this to be right, it had to be for Baird's sake. He had to feel like nothing had changed, even though everyone was doing their best to make life easier for him.

Baird had sent a note to Cole the previous day. "Getting out tomorrow, if nothing else goes wrong. Need someone to push the damn wheelchair. Come get me?"

It was typical Baird. There wasn't a word of apology or even a please. Clearly he was having a very difficult time dealing with his injuries and in many ways, she wasn't surprised that he'd shut everyone out. Baird's ability to deal with emotions was limited at best, but did he have to take it out on his friends?

Because Hayman had to observe medical confidentiality she couldn't tell them much more about his condition than what they already knew, so Anya had no idea how much Baird had improved or if he'd had more seizures. She really wasn't sure whether she should be planning out more disabled amenities or if she should just leave Baird to his own devices. Probably whatever she did, it would be wrong in Baird's eyes.

Her radio crackled to life. "Lieutenant Stroud, we've lost touch with one of our fishing boats. It missed its last two check ins."

Anya frowned. The last time they'd lost a fishing boat they were on Vectes and it had been brought down by a Lambent Leviathan. She knew it couldn't be that, but it had certainly triggered some bad memories.

"This is Lieutenant Stroud, can you get KR-three niner to change course and fly over the area? It should be in bound from Anvil's Gate. Contact me if they find anything."

"Yes, Ma'am, will do."

She clicked off her radio and turned to see Marcus approaching.

"Has Cole collected Baird yet?" she asked.

Marcus shook his head. "He's getting out in an hour, after Hayman's given him a final check-up. Cole's better at getting information out of her than I am. I think she must have been a Cougars fan."

Anya gave a slight smile, before she got back to business. "We might have a problem with one of the fishing boats. It missed two of its check-ins. It's probably just a broken radio but I've sent a Raven to check it out. I'd like to have a team ready to go at the docks in case it needs help limping home, or if it's something more sinister. Can you get them moving?"

"Sure," said Marcus. "I'll take Jace and Carmine with me."

"Good idea," said Anya.

"Are you thinking Stranded?" asked Marcus.

"They're the only things left out there that could take out a boat," said Anya.

"That's what we thought last time this happened," said Marcus. "At least we know that all the leviathans are dead."

"We haven't found so much as a Ticker alive," said Anya, "so, yes, I think we can rule out there being any grubs left alive, especially the big ones."

Anya vividly remembered the early days on Azura when they'd piled high the bodies of dead Locust and Lambent. There hadn't been room to bury them all, and the Lambent could have contaminated the ground, so she'd ordered them to be burned. The smell had been horrible, sickening, and the fires had been difficult to start. Dead imulsion didn't burn nearly as well as the living stuff. She shook off the memory. That horror was in the past and they still had a future to build ahead of them.

Marcus squeezed her hand briefly, seeing her rather distracted look. "Are you okay? You didn't sleep well last night."

Anya shrugged. "Just a bad night. You get them too."

"I'm not running Azura," said Marcus.

"Maybe not, but you're certainly helping to run it," said Anya.

"Are you going to be able to deal with Baird on your own? He's going to be angry and frustrated. I've dealt with him when he was injured before. He chased Cole and I out of the physio room because he reckoned we were crowding him," said Marcus.

"You probably were," said Anya. "I had no idea that Cole cared so much about Baird until he asked me to get ginger and chamomile tea for him to help him get over the painkiller withdrawal. But the two of you can be stifling when it comes to looking after your own. You and Cole have been hell to live with this last week."

Marcus gave Anya a slightly annoyed look. "Baird needs his ass kicked. He's being an idiot."

"Yeah, well, he's also recovering from a major injury, so if there was ever a time to cut him some slack then it would be now," said Anya, and paused. "I can't believe I just suggested that we should try to be nicer to Baird. The world really is a strange place today."

"Huh," grunted Marcus, in non-reply. He glanced back in the direction of the Medical Centre.

"You're not still blaming yourself for what happened?" she asked.

"Whose fault is it if it isn't mine?" asked Marcus. "I suggested that we go up there and I was the one who was up there with him."

"It was an accident," said Anya. "I looked into it myself. You did everything by the book, but neither of you expected that roof to be in such bad repair."

Marcus sighed. "Yeah, you might be right. I just can't shake the idea that there was something that I could have done."

"There wasn't, Marcus, and we need to work out how best to help Baird now. Go on, that boat team isn't going to muster itself," said Anya, hoping that some distraction with work might help her partner.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied, a little bit of his usual twinkle in his eyes. She watched him stride away down to the docks.


	6. Chapter 6

Born of the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: This ended up being a long chapter because there was too much to cram into it. Thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter, you made my day when they dropped into my inbox.

* * *

When Cole arrived at Baird's room, he found the mechanic sat on the edge of the bed trying to get a pair of khaki green, baggy, cargo shorts on over his bad leg with one hand. This clearly wasn't working, but had at least a better hope than the pair of standard issue combat pants that lay beside him. Cole guessed that Baird had tried those first and already given up on it. His left arm was encased in plaster and supported by a sling, which wasn't helping his balance or dexterity.

"Knock, knock, baby, your taxi is here," said Cole.

Baird's head snapped up at the words, apparently surprised because he hadn't heard Cole's approach. Baird swayed and would have fallen if Cole hadn't reached him in time.

"Hey, are you sure you're ready to be getting out of here?" asked Cole.

"Yes," retorted Baird. "I already had this conversation with Hayman. I'm more than ready to be out of here. I just get dizzy sometimes, if I move too quick. Damn it." The shorts once again missed his foot.

"Hand them over," said Cole.

"What? No!" said Baird, looking totally mortified that Cole would even ask.

"I can't see any other way this is going to work, unless you want to face-plant into the ground," said Cole.

"Damn frame," said Baird. "She couldn't just put a cast on it like normal. No, she had to go and give me this collection of cast-off meccano."

"There were good reasons, Baird, and you know it. Now give me the shorts and quit bitching," replied Cole.

Baird gave an exaggerated sigh and handed Cole the shorts. Cole got them over the good side first and then gently worked them around the frame. They did go, but it was a tight fit and Baird never would have managed it on his own. Once they were over the frame, he helped Baird down from the bed so that he could stand on his good leg and pull them up around his waist. He unobtrusively put an arm under Baird's elbow so that he could grab him if he looked like he was going to fall, but he managed the task without incident. There was a single crutch propped up on the edge of the bed, which clearly Baird was supposed to use to help him. So far he was ignoring it.

"Awesome, I'm dressed and respectable for the first time in nearly three weeks, and I feel like something a wretch dragged in," said Baird, swaying slightly.

"Can you stand there for a sec while I grab the chair?" asked Cole, he'd abandoned it in order to help Baird. "It's just in the corridor."

Baird turned awkwardly and put his right hand on the bed to steady himself, with most of his weight on his left leg. "Yeah, go for it."

Cole moved quickly to get the wheelchair in and round to Baird. His friend was pale and there was a slight sheen of sweat on his skin that had developed as he stood. Cole moved the chair into place and Baird carefully sat down.

"I guess boots are out of the question," said Baird. "They won't fit over the torture device. It'll have to be the stupid sandals." Baird waved vaguely at the offending footwear, which sat on the floor by the bed.

Cole picked them up and was about to shove them on Baird's feet when the mechanic asked: "what are you doing? I can manage to put my own shoes on."

"Yeah, I think you might be wrong on that one, baby," said Cole. He ignored Baird, knelt and secured the sandals on Baird's feet. "It ain't cold on this rock, you'll be fine."

Baird just gave Cole a look that said it all. He hated all of this and it was probably going to get worse before it got better. Hayman picked that moment to enter the room and both sets of eyes turned towards her, as Cole got to his feet again. She was carrying a manila folder in one hand. She went to the table beside the bed and retrieved a plastic bag with three pill bottles inside it.

"Don't forget your medication, Corporal," said Hayman, handing the bag to Baird, along with the manila folder, that Baird rapidly shoved down the side of the wheelchair.

"How could I, with you around to remind me?" asked Baird, facetiously.

"Do you want me to go over it again?" asked Hayman, as if she were talking to a naughty child.

"No, I got it," said Baird. "And if I forget, it's all written on the bottle anyway."

"Please see that you take it every day as instructed. When the antibiotics run out you'll have completed the course, but you can ask for more pain medication if you need it and the valproate will need regular refills," said Hayman.

"Great. Awesome, in fact. Now, can we go, please?" said Baird, clearly enthusiastic to get out of the Medical Centre. Cole got the feeling he was keeping something from him, and that was why he was in such a rush to leave.

"What's the valproate for?" asked Cole.

"I need Corporal Baird's permission to tell you that," said Hayman, looking crossly at Baird. Cole got the impression that she'd definitely suggested to him at some point before that he should talk to his friends. Baird had, of course, ignored her.

"Okay then, now that we've got that over with, let's go," said Baird.

"You're not going to tell me?" asked Cole.

"Look, I really don't have a lot of choice, but I'm only going to go through it once, so I'd rather we did it with Marcus and Anya," said Baird.

Cole frowned. "Well it's up to you, but you're making all this a hell of a lot more difficult than it needs to be."

"I wish I was, but I'm really not," said Baird.

"Remember, Corporal, you still need plenty of rest. I've already told Lieutenant Stroud that you're off duty and that you should spend a good part of that time resting, preferably sleeping," said Hayman.

"Yes, I got all of this the first time you told me." He made a feeble attempt to push on one of the wheels of his chair. "Now, come on. Do I have to ask again?"

Cole picked up the lone crutch, handing it to Baird to hang on to. His friend would need it to get around inside for short distances, but clearly he couldn't get far like that at the moment. He gave Hayman an apologetic look.

"Thanks for all your work, Doc," said Cole, and he took the handles of the chair and pushed Baird out of the Medical Centre. Baird was a terrible patient and Hayman would be well within her rights to be happy to see him go.

The sun was shining brightly outside and the road down from the Medical Centre had a good view of the island. Baird was unusually quiet as Cole pushed him along.

"So are you going to tell me why you decided to go radio silent this last week, or are you going to keep that one to yourself as well?" asked Cole.

"I just didn't feel like seeing anyone," said Baird.

"I call bullshit on that," said Cole.

"You can think whatever the hell you like, but it's the truth," said Baird. He paused for a moment, his attention suddenly caught by something in the distance. "What's going on down at the docks?"

"I don't know," said Cole. "I'm off duty this morning so no reason for Anya to keep me in the loop."

"Cole, something's going on. There's a Raven in-bound and two squads of Gears getting tooled up," said Baird. "Give me your radio."

Cole could see the black speck in the sky which was the Raven but he had no idea how Baird knew that two squads of Gears were getting ready to go out. All he could do was make out a mass of people down at the dock and some weapon crates.

"Uh uh," said Cole with a shake of his head. "You're supposed to be heading back to your quarters to rest, like the doctor said."

Baird sighed. "You've turned into a real killjoy lately."

"I'm just trying to actually get you to take proper care of yourself. Most people don't need this much of a kick up the ass to eat and sleep properly," replied Cole.

That shut Baird up for some reason. Normally Cole would have expected this to be the start of the argument and not the end of it. Something was really wrong and the sooner Baird gave it up, the sooner they could all get around to working out what to do about it. Unfortunately it looked like Baird didn't see it that way, so this was going to be like pulling teeth.

"I need to see Anya and Marcus," said Baird, seriously. "Hell, all of the Delta extended family."

He sounded tired and the more Cole looked at him, the more he realised that Baird was on the verge of falling asleep in the wheelchair. Every part of the way Baird held himself screamed fatigue and, more worryingly, defeat. Just the talking and moving had worn him out, but Cole wasn't terribly surprised by that. The guy had been lying in a hospital bed for the best part of three weeks, and Cole knew he still had a lot of healing to do.

"Yeah, well it looks like they're going to be busy. I'll com them when I've got you settled and we can go see them this afternoon. You're practically asleep anyway," said Cole.

"Am not," replied Baird half-heartedly, mostly just for the sake of bravado. Both of them were aware of the blatant lie in the statement, so Cole didn't bother to argue.

"Nearly there," said Cole.

The roads were rougher around here and it was harder to get the wheelchair over the broken flagstones of the paving. Cole put his muscles into it and tried not to bump Baird around too much. Baird seemed to be lost in thought again.

They turned into the most central accommodation block, where Baird had his officially designated quarters, and Cole headed through the red-carpeted lobby for the elevator up to Baird's floor. The wheelchair moved smoothly across the marble floors of the corridor down to Baird's room and Cole unlocked the door.

"What are you doing with my keys?" asked Baird.

"Hayman handed the contents of your pockets over to me after you took your swan dive off the roof. Don't worry your Marandaian Army Knife's all safe, and so are the rest of your tools," said Cole.

"They better be," replied Baird.

Cole swung the door open and really wished that he or one of the other members of Delta had thought to check the state of Baird's suite before they'd brought him back here. It looked like it hadn't been lived in for months, and had bits of half-repaired machinery lying around the floor and surfaces. The curtains were pulled shut and it didn't look like Baird had made much of an effort to do anything with the rooms he'd been given.

Every Gear on the island had been assigned a room, and some of them had been given suites like this one. It was comprised of a bedroom, a bathroom, a lounge and a small kitchenette. It was furnished with ornate chairs, a sofa and table, all of which had seen better days. Cole could see the rumpled sheets of an unmade, four poster bed through the double doors to the bedroom. Most of the Gears had attempted to make their accommodation more inviting and less austere, either by adding personal items or making things. People had got pretty creative with the resource available to them. There was none of that here in Baird's quarters.

"How many times have you actually slept here?" asked Cole.

"I don't know. A few times," said Baird.

Cole shut the door behind them and left Baird in the middle of the room while he opened the curtains to let some light in. This just made it more obvious that the entire place was filthy and Baird hadn't bothered to do much in the way of cleaning when he _had_ been here. There were coffee mugs piled high in the kitchen sink and the bin was full of ration pack containers.

"Damn, baby, I can't believe you lived like this," said Cole.

Baird blinked at him tiredly, rubbing at his eyes. "It's not like I had much time for domestic chores, Cole. I had to fall off a building to get some vacation time."

Cole rolled his eyes at that. He went to examine the bed and see if it was at least fit for Baird to nap on. The sheets looked clean, probably because Baird hadn't slept on them much, so it was just a matter of making the bed and tidying things up. By the time Cole had finished, Baird was having real trouble keeping his eyes open, so Cole moved the wheelchair through to the bedroom and parked it next to the bed. He helped Baird hop the couple of steps to get him onto the bed, where his friend lay down and closed his eyes. Baird didn't grumble about Cole's help, and was breathing deeply before Cole had even left the room.

As Cole was about to close the door he caught sight of the folder in the wheelchair, the one that Baird had shoved quickly out of sight. The temptation to read it was high. Baird wasn't good at passing on personal information. Cole tiptoed back and silently picked up the folder, keeping one eye on the sleeping Baird. He opened the folder and read.

The first page was entitled "Living with Epilepsy". Cole silently took in the information, closed the folder, put it back where he'd found it and left Baird's bedroom. He shut the door quietly behind himself and tapped his com. "This is Cole, come in Control. Can you get Lieutenant Stroud on the line for me?"

"Sure, Cole, give me a minute to locate her," said the operator.

"No problem," said Cole and went to start washing up the used coffee mugs. A minute later his com crackled into life again.

"This is Stroud," said Anya, "How's Baird doing?"

"He's his usual charming self. He's sleeping in his room, but he's got a few things to talk to us about. Can you assemble Delta for a meet up this afternoon, say about 14:00?"

"Should be okay. We've got a missing fishing boat so Marcus is out investigating that, but it shouldn't take him more than a couple of hours. He's got Jace and Carmine with him," said Anya. "Do you need any help over there?"

"Well, Baird's place hasn't exactly been well looked after. I hadn't realised that he'd basically been living in his office at the workshop. The whole thing could do with some serious TLC. I'm making a start," said Cole.

"I can send a cleaning crew over to you," said Anya.

"Nah, I don't want to wake him. Maybe when we're busy with the meeting, you could send the guys in," said Cole.

"Okay, you've got it," said Anya. "Is he in a better mood than when you saw him last?"

"Not really," replied Cole. "Given what I think he wants to talk to us about, I can't really blame him for the lack of a sunny disposition."

"Something bad?" asked Anya.

"It's not good, but it's his to tell," said Cole.

"Okay, we'll see you at 14:00. Stroud out."

Cole turned back to the washing up with a sigh, and started on the mould sprouting from the oldest of the mugs.

* * *

The seas around Azura were usually pretty quiet. No one had large ships to plough along the former shipping lanes of Sera. The biggest boats belonged to the Gorasni and they had left with the people, who had plans to set up a colony in what was previously Gorasnaya. Azura and Anvil Gate kept in regular contact and mostly the Gorasni were too busy rebuilding to actually go sailing anywhere. Azura's fishing fleet were the most active boats on this coast.

Marcus stood on the prow of one of Azura's COG patrol boats, and looked out across the waves. The sun was shining and it was a pleasant enough day, despite the wind getting stronger as the day progressed. He'd gotten more used to being at sea after eighteen months on board CNV Sovereign, but he still preferred working on dry land. Boats never allowed much room for manoeuvre, or provided much in the way of cover in a fire fight. Then there was the fact that it was a long swim home if things went wrong.

Marcus sighed. He was wearing his plate armour for the first time in quite a while, and it was rubbing on his shoulders. He didn't remember it doing that since he'd first joined up as a Gear. Clearly life on Azura was making him soft. He hefted his Lancer and moved back along the boat to where Carmine was keeping an eye out on their port side. The Gear had given up wearing his helmet after peace was declared, so his short copper hair was being blown by the breeze.

"Anything?" asked Marcus.

Carmine shook his head. "Not so much as a seagull, Sarge."

"We're coming up on the area where the Raven saw wreckage, so keep your eyes peeled," said Marcus.

"Yes, Sergeant," said Carmine.

There was a shout from the other side of the boat, where Jace Stratton was positioned.

"Hey, I think I can see something," said Jace. "Look, there's stuff in the water over there."

Marcus came around the boat's cabin and across the deck. Carmine followed him. As Marcus reached Jace's side he could see what the younger Gear was shouting about, they were entering a field of broken wood and dead imulsion slick. This certainly looked like something that might be left after a boat going down.

"Shit," said Carmine. "What the hell happened here?"

"Good question," replied Marcus. He reached for a boat hook and used it to snag a large piece of wood from the water. He didn't need to look too closely to see something ominous.

"They look a lot like bullet holes," said Jace. The wood had two round holes in it, each with ragged edges.

"Yeah, they do," said Marcus, fingering the splintered edges. "The question is who would come out this far and why would they want to sink a fishing boat?"

"Someone who doesn't like us much," said Carmine.

"You think?" asked Marcus. "Grab some more of the wreckage, we'll take it back to Azura and see if we can piece together what happened."

"It's a shame that Baird's not around to help," said Jace, "this would be right up his street."

"Yeah, we might have to live without our resident genius's views for a while, at least until he's back on his feet," said Marcus. "Maybe we can use our own brains for a while."

"I wouldn't hold your breath," said Carmine.

"Well, someone's got to work out what happened here," said Marcus.

"We might not need to," said Jace, looking into the distance. He pointed out across the water. "Look, I think there's someone out there. Could be we've got a survivor."

Marcus asked one of the crew for their binoculars, which were reluctantly given up. He put them to his eyes and looked out in the direction that Jace was pointing. His eyes weren't as good as the younger Gear's, but finally he saw what Jace was looking at. There was movement, and it very much resembled a man, maybe two, on a raft of some kind.

"Hey," shouted Marcus. "Survivors, two clicks to the east, and step on it. That water's not safe."

The boat captain acknowledged Marcus's shout and turned the patrol boat towards the men in the water. They were at the location in a couple of minutes and hauling the man and woman on board shortly after. Marcus recognised them as civilians who'd come out to Azura with the fishing boats, and had been part of the original Vectes fishing fleet. The crew got to work with first aid, staunching blood from what looked like a gunshot wound to the woman's arm and getting the pair warmed up with blankets. They were cold from being in the water and clearly scared after their ordeal, the man was nearly hysterical.

Marcus introduced himself and tried to be as gentle as he could with his questions, but they had to be asked. The patrol boat turned around and started back towards Azura, speeding along as quickly as it could manage.

"Do you know who attacked you?" he asked.

"It all happened so quickly," said the woman, "one moment we were out like any normal day, and then this boat was coming up on our starboard side…"

"They started shooting at us!" the man interjected. "Just like that, no warning!"

"It's okay, Karl," said the woman. "We're safe now." She drew in a sharp intake of breath as a dressing was applied to her wound. "They said that they're not Stranded. They called themselves Soldiers of the Nation of Ostri, but that's got to be a lie."

"Ostri?" asked Jace. "Weren't they…?"

"A member of the UIR. Yeah, they were but they became part of the COG after the Pendulum Wars," said Marcus.

"They wanted the boat then?" asked Carmine.

The woman shook her head. "They just wanted us gone. They told us to abandon ship and then they shot up the hull until she sank. I caught a bullet when I was bit slow to leave."

"Crazy Stranded bastards," said Jace.

Marcus just gave a noncommittal grunt. Something really didn't add up here. No one in this world could afford to destroy a fishing boat, the thing was too valuable. Still, for now, they had wounded that they needed to get back to Azura and whoever had done this was probably long gone.

He went into the cabin and radioed back to base. Anya was waiting for his call, and had two squads of Gears tooled up and ready to go to see if they could catch the perpetrators.

"Apparently they called themselves Soldiers of the Nation of Ostri," said Marcus.

"Ostri fell to the Grubs before the Hammer of Dawn strike," said Anya. "I didn't think there was anyone even left in that area."

"Yeah, as I remember it, they all evacuated to Pelles," said Marcus, "but maybe a few of them decided to go home."

"Great, just what we need, more Stranded getting delusions of grandeur," said Anya. "Get the survivors back to Hayman and we'll go from there. I'm going to recall the fishing fleet until we can get escorts organised and deal with this threat."

"Roger that," said Marcus. "Our ETA is twenty minutes so have a med team waiting at the dock for us."

"Will do," replied Anya. "Oh, and Baird's asked for a Delta meet-up. I've called it for 14:00 hours. Cole reckons he's got something important to tell us and it may not be good news."

It took Marcus a moment to collect himself before he clicked the radio back to transmit. "Okay, I'll pass the message on. Fenix out." Marcus put the microphone down and was left with his own incriminating thoughts.

* * *

When he woke up, it took Baird a few moments to remember where he was. That was at least partly because he hadn't ever spent very much time in this room. They were his assigned quarters, but he'd mostly slept on the cot in his office at his workshop, preferring to be close to his work. He still found the ridiculous luxury of Azura sort of creepy, and they'd all been used to fairly spartan living conditions up to this point. So, when he'd first lain down on the four-poster to sleep, it had felt like it would swallow him up, which had just been another reason to sleep on the less comfortable cot at the workshop.

He stared up at the ceiling and considered moving. He had no idea what time it was or how long he'd slept. Things ached, his broken leg in particular, but his arm was definitely trying to get in on the action. It probably wasn't bad enough for him to consider taking more pills just yet, but give it an hour and it would be. The start of a familiar headache was niggling in the background but definitely nowhere close to requiring that he pay attention to it. He'd gotten used to his head complaining unless he stayed perfectly still.

He needed to take a piss and get a shower, but he'd settle for the former and running a washcloth over his face. Although he should probably pay attention to Hayman's cleaning instructions when it came to the cage that was holding his broken bones in place. The doctor had made it very clear that he needed to pay careful attention to keeping the area where the long metal pins entered his leg clean, otherwise infection could set in. He'd had a wound infection before and didn't particularly want to experience it again.

The need to get up led him to contemplate his first problem. He had a broken leg and a broken arm and was lying on a bed that had sort of absorbed him into itself. He was also weak from spending the last two weeks and a bit in a hospital bed. Any kind of movement would annoy his headache, but the pressure in his bladder was building and making him increasingly uncomfortable. Cole was probably still in the suite, because Baird knew his friend and Cole would feel like he had to take care of him, but Baird didn't want to ask for help. He was just going to have to roll onto his side and then try to push himself up from there.

The roll itself was fine, if slightly dizzying, but when he tried to sit up he encountered a much larger wave of dizziness that left him grabbing the edge of the bed. He groaned and apparently that was enough to bring Cole running. The door was flung open and the dark-skinned Gear strode in, looking worried.

"What are you doing? Why didn't you shout?" he asked, as he steadied Baird with a single hand on his shoulder. It made Baird feel small and weak, that Cole only needed the one hand whereas he could barely keep himself in a sitting position with all the muscles in his body.

"Going to the bathroom. Can't I get a little privacy here?"

"Sure you can, when you're able to walk without help or sit up without keeling over," replied Cole.

Baird gave an exasperated groan. "How long was I asleep?"

"A couple of hours. I set up a meeting with the gang for you while you were asleep. Think you can make it to Operations in half an hour?"

"Yeah," said Baird, and then he did his best to get up using the lone crutch that Hayman had allowed him. Again Cole was there, unobtrusively helping him up without saying a word. He made it to the bathroom door without incident. "I think I can take a leak on my own."

"Okay, but don't lock the door. You aren't exactly steady on your feet at the moment," replied Cole. It was probably the best attempt at privacy that Baird was going to get at the moment.

He managed to do what was necessary and then looked longingly at the shower. It just wasn't going to happen though. He needed to cover the cast and he'd have to work out how to actually get over the lip of the shower tray without falling over. He hopped over to the washbasin instead and ran some water into the bowl. He splashed water on his face and actually began to feel slightly more like he could face what he needed to say to the others. His leg reminded him that painkillers were going to be required soon, so he concluded his ablutions and pulled the plug out of the basin.

Cole heard the water draining and knocked at the door.

"Hey, you alright in there?"

"Geez Cole, it's been like two minutes," replied Baird. He balanced himself carefully and used his good hand to open the door again. He found Cole hovering outside.

"Why don't you go do something useful and get me a glass of water?" said Baird.

Cole nodded and headed towards the kitchen without any protest. Under better circumstance Cole would have told him where to stick his request and it was never a good sign in Baird's opinion when Cole stopped teasing him. Baird allowed a small sigh to escape his lips and he grabbed a rather grubby looking towel to dry his hands and face on. If he was actually going to be staying in these rooms for any time then he should probably look into doing some cleaning before some of the bacteria mutated and started their own civilisation in his apartment.

Cole came back just as Baird was hobbling back towards his pills. He could see that Cole would have loved to offer him an arm to lean on but knew better than to try. Baird would just have snapped at him that he wasn't completely incapable. He made it back to the wheelchair on his own and sat down gratefully. Cole handed him the glass of water and Baird shifted himself close enough to the bedside table that he could grab his painkillers without having to ask for them. He shook the required number into his hand and downed them with the water.

"Anya said she'd send over a cleaning crew while we're at the Delta meet-up," said Cole.

Baird's first reaction to that was horror. He hated people touching his stuff. But he'd forgotten how bad this place had gotten over the last few months. There was no way he was going to be able to tackle getting the suite into any sense of order whilst he had a broken arm and leg.

"Being an invalid does have some perks then," said Baird. "Just tell them not to break anything."

"I'm sure that once they've found your living room under all the machine parts, they'll make a point of being extra careful," replied Cole. "Are you hungry? We can swing by the mess hall on the way to the Anya's office."

Baird shrugged. "Not really. Let's just get this done. I can eat afterwards."

Cole frowned but didn't argue. "Okay, are you ready to go? We should get our skates on if we want to be there for 14:00."

"Being on time is so far down my list of things to worry about right now," said Baird.

"Yeah, yeah, come on, it's all uphill to Ops," said Cole.

Baird got himself comfortable in the wheelchair and tried very hard not to mind that he couldn't do something as simple as get to a meeting on his own. The painkillers were beginning to kick in and take away the worst of the aches and pain from his healing body. Cole kept up a constant narrative about stuff going on around the island as he pushed the chair out of the accommodation block and up to the central building where Ops and Anya's office were. Baird tuned it out, preferring to concentrate on what he had to say to the rest of Delta. He made occasional grunts in the right place to keep Cole happy.

They turned into the courtyard of the building and Baird could feel his heart beat just a little faster. It didn't feel good and he didn't want to be this nervous, not when he was talking to people that were his friends. He had no idea why they were his friends, especially not after he'd shut them out for an entire week and he expected to get hell for that, but apparently he was stuck with them. By the time Cole had them in the elevator and heading for the right floor, Baird was taking deep breaths to stave off a panic attack.

Cole stopped pushing halfway along the corridor to Anya's office. "Hey, are you okay? We can do this another time if you're not feeling right yet."

Baird shook his head, an action he regretted immediately as the room spun. He put his good arm down on the arm of the wheelchair and, after a second, things went back to normal. "Nah, might as well get it over with."

"If you're sure," said Cole.

"Yeah, let's do this," said Baird. "They can all have their chance to rip me a new one."

"I think they're mostly just worried about you, baby," said Cole. "But I know that doesn't compute in the Baird brain."

Baird frowned, but the door was opened and Cole was pushing him through it before he could come up with a suitable comeback. The same aide that he'd ignored the last time he was here was sat at the desk nearest the door to the corridor. He actually smiled at them and waved them on through. The double doors to Anya's office were wedged open as was normal and Baird could see his audience waiting. They were chatting sporadically, but clearly waiting for him to arrive.

Cole manoeuvred him in, being careful not to knock his leg frame.

"Uh, hi guys," he said, once Cole had parked the chair and put the brakes on.

"You're a total jerk. You do know that, right?" said Sam, leaning against the large desk with her arms crossed.

"It's been mentioned," replied Baird.

"But, by the Allfathers, I am so glad to see that you're doing better," said Sam, and before Baird could do anything the Kashkuri Gear was enveloping him in an awkward, and careful hug. "You really had us all worried there, you arsehole."

Baird found himself returning it, one handed, and taking in the scent of Sam's hair. Whatever shampoo she used, he loved it. She backed off after a few brief seconds, and Baird felt somewhat disappointed.

Sam's reaction had been the signal for the rest of Delta to crowd in around him and Cole to shut the door to give them some privacy. Jace gave him a slap on the back on his good side. Carmine held up his hand for a fist bump and Baird couldn't leave him hanging. Even Anya was smiling at him and saying it was good to see him. Only Marcus was hanging back, watching everyone else.

"Hey, give the man some room," said Cole.

"Last time we gave him room, he shut us all out for the week," said Sam.

"Yeah, what was up with that, man?" asked Jace.

"Look, I just needed time to work out a few things," said Baird. The lie was an easy one to tell, he barely admitted the real reasons to himself.

"Next time, just remember that we're there to help you through this stuff," said Anya. "So, you called this meeting, what did you want to say?"

Baird took a deep breath. "Okay, so I'm just going to say this because you know me, I'm not good with pretty words. I asked Hayman if I could do this because I wanted you to hear it from me."

He paused, he wasn't trying to find the best way to tell them what he had to say, he just didn't know how to begin. In the end he just blurted it out.

"I have Post Traumatic Epilepsy, caused by the head injury. It's not going to get better, it's here to stay and I have a long list of stuff that I can't do anymore. And one of those things is be a Gear. Hayman's put together all of the paperwork for my medical discharge, I'll officially be a civilian by the end of the week," said Baird. "As much as that means anything anymore."

He looked up and saw the stunned reaction on everyone's face. He couldn't meet their eyes though, he felt like he'd let them all down. He fiddled with the edge of his sling with his good hand.

"Hang on a minute," said Sam, her tone demanding attention. "I thought Hayman said there was medication that would control the seizures."

Baird shrugged. "Yeah, I'm taking stuff but it's not one hundred percent effective, and Hayman's still trying to get the dosage right. Plus there's always going to be a chance I'll have what she called a breakthrough seizure. And then there's the unavoidable problem that our medical supplies aren't infinite. Hayman reckons there's enough of the drug that seems to work for me to last a year at the current dosage. She's going to look into other ways of seizure control to see if she can make it last longer, but basically once it runs out, I'm screwed."

"Anvil Gate might have more in their pharmacy," said Anya.

"Hayman's already thought of that, but it's just a few extra months at best. And the epilepsy isn't the only thing, the injury's screwed around with my language centres or something and my reading speed is probably about fifty percent of what it was. My writing is like a child learning their letters for the first time. Basically I'm now dyslexic. There might be other stuff that we won't discover until the injury's settled. I have to give up being a Gear. I'm pretty much useless like this, and even though my bones will heal, my brain is never going to. Corporal Brennan can handle the workshop without me, I expect she's been doing fine this last month."

"Not so much," said Carmine. Sam kicked him.

"Well maybe I can throw her some pointers before I head back to Anvil Gate," said Baird, his heart sinking at this news.

"Anvil Gate?" asked Cole. "Hey, you didn't say anything about Anvil Gate."

"Yeah, well, it's bigger and they can absorb one injured man into the population easier than Azura. If I stay here I'll just be another drain on resources that you don't need," said Baird.

"No," said Marcus. It was the first time he'd spoken.

"What do you mean, "no"? I'm telling you what has to happen," said Baird.

"You're not going to Anvil Gate and you're not getting a medical discharge," said Marcus. "You're not useless and you're not leaving the workshop to Corporal Brennan. We're Delta and we stick together," said Marcus. The determination in his voice was steely.

"What fantasy land are you living in, Marcus?" asked Baird. "I have seizures. I can't operate heavy machinery, I can't drive, or carry a gun. I can't write reports or read them. I can't read manuals or research, unless I want it to take a month. I can't even drink alcohol. What the fuck am I going to do here?"

"What makes you think any of that stops you from being a Gear and a mechanic? I'm tired of hearing about all the stuff that you can't do. You've still got a brain in that head of yours, damaged or not. That still makes you the resident genius and best mechanic on the island," said Marcus.

"Yeah, well last time I checked, medical discharge by the CMO wasn't a choice," said Baird. He would have loved to allow himself to be comforted by Marcus' words, but Fenix had no idea what a diagnosis of epilepsy really meant. He wasn't the one living with it.

"Enough!" said Anya, abruptly. There was a moment of silence before she continued. "Baird, I think Marcus might have a point. You still have a lot to offer and I'm pretty sure none of us want you to go to Anvil Gate. But you're right, you can't carry a firearm or drive, which would normally preclude you from general duty, but that isn't an automatic discharge. We have a lot of disabled Gears and I'm pretty sure they'd be insulted if they heard that you were planning on chucking in the towel and running back to Anvil Gate."

"Hell, yeah," added Cole. "Mathieson would probably use that prosthetic leg you built him to bash some sense into you."

"I appreciate the sentiment, I really do," said Baird, "but losing a leg or even both legs isn't like having a brain injury. Okay, I'll be able to walk, but I don't know when I might have a seizure, and at best the medication might last a year and half. After that I'll probably have more seizures until they kill me. Without medication, I won't be able to work at all."

"Then we won't let that happen," said Sam. "There's got to be more of that stuff out there somewhere."

"Oh yeah, great plan, Sam. The world is a dangerous place, in case you hadn't noticed. Are you really going to sacrifice a squad just to save one man? Even then, this stuff has an expiration date and it's not like Zastra Chem or Aneca Medipharm are still operating," said Baird.

"Then we come up with something else," said Marcus. "You don't get to just give up and roll over."

"Yeah, 'cos that would be too easy, and you'd lose your repair man," said Baird, crossly. "Because, let's face it, that's all you give a damn about. All you want is me to keep fixing this place up so that you can rebuild your cosy little society and pick up where your Daddy and Chairman Prescott left off."

Marcus ground his teeth, his jaw twitching. Baird could see his hands tightening into fists, and he wondered if he might actually have just gone too far.

"I'm done here," said Marcus. "I'll be out on the patrol boat with Zeta." He pushed through the rest of the squad and out of the room.

"Awesome," said Baird. "Apparently my ability to say all the wrong things and piss people off didn't get damaged in the fall. Maybe someone could do me a slow handclap to celebrate that."

Anya leant back against the desk, letting out a huff of air.

"Should I go after him?" asked Jace.

Anya shook her head. "Leave him, he needs time to process."

"I think we could all do with a bit of that," said Sam, pointedly looking at Baird.

"Let me talk to Hayman," said Anya, also turning to Baird. "I'll need you to give your permission for her to explain your condition, and then I can work out how we deal with this and what you can do. I'm happy for you to keep overseeing the workshop, but you might have to let your team handle more of the heavy lifting. Assuming that fits with Hayman's assessment."

Baird was at the point where he was finding it hard to care what happened to him. "Whatever. Just call me when you make up your mind which desk I'm being shoved under. Unless Hayman's medical discharge turns out to be non-negotiable, in which case I'm sure that Anvil Gate is lovely at this time of year. Get me out of here, Cole."

"Yes, sir, your worship," replied Cole.

The Gear turned Baird around and they worked their way back through the corridors of the huge building, into the elevator and back to the ground floor atrium. The problem was that Baird had no idea which way he wanted to go next. Sam, slightly out of breath, jogged up behind him from the direction of the stairs, and she was closely followed by Carmine. Apparently they'd followed them down the long way.

"Need a hand?" she asked.

Then she and Cole started talking gibberish, and Baird knew he was in trouble. He was in a very public place and this was an aura. He'd gotten pretty familiar with the way this worked over the last week, he'd get the aura and a seizure almost always followed a few minutes later.

"Guys, I need you to find me somewhere quiet that I can lie down on the floor. I can't understand a word that you're saying, so by my reckoning you've got about two minutes before I start convulsions. Oh great, and here come the multi-coloured flashing disco lights," said Baird, as the now familiar lightshow started behind his eyes.

He heard his name, which for some reason never seemed to get scrambled like everything else.

"Baird, elope tonic secretary vela shawl car battery," said Cole, he was moving the wheelchair towards one side of the room.

"It's no good, I can't understand a word, Cole," said Baird.

"Destination track pencil digital remote vague magic envelope corridors, Baird," added Sam, unhelpfully.

Baird closed his eyes against the visual onslaught of the coloured lights. Carmine was saying something unintelligible to the others, and he felt himself being lifted out of the chair and onto the ground. He was very grateful, because in the next moment he'd lost the ability to perceive anything and then he was just gone.


	7. Chapter 7

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: The chapters for this are getting longer. There are three things happening at roughly the same time here ,and you get bonus points for guessing who the mystery guest is at the end of this chapter.

* * *

Watching Baird go into a seizure was never fun, but at least Cole and Sam had seen it happen before and had some idea of what to expect. Carmine looked like he was watching a horror movie, and honestly Sam couldn't blame him for that reaction. Baird's limbs were thrashing around in an extremely alarming manner. He was as white as a sheet and his lips were slowly turning blue as he failed to breathe properly, but she knew there was nothing to do except wait for it to finish.

Sam looked around for something to put under Baird's head. The atrium was as well-furnished as the rest of Azura and there were throw pillows on the circular padded couches that had been built around large, potted trees. There was also an occasional blanket draped tastefully over the single armchairs dotted around the room, probably there for the older scientists who felt the cold more. A lot of the stuff in here hadn't been touched since the end of the war.

"Carmine, grab some of those cushions and a blanket, then call Hayman and let her know what happened," said Sam.

"Happened? It's still happening," said Carmine.

"Carmine, go," said Sam. Her tone invited no argument.

"Okay, okay," he said and returned a second later with the pillows and blanket, with a finger on his com. "Hayman's sending a medic. Jensen should be here any moment."

A small cluster of people had formed and were watching the spectacle. Cole's eyes were fixed on Baird's convulsing form. He grabbed one of the cushions and carefully shifted it under Baird's head between convulsions. At least they could protect his head from more damage. About a minute later the jerks stopped and Baird was still.

Sam spread the blanket over Baird. The floor wasn't very warm and Baird was unnaturally pale at the moment.

"Shit," said Carmine. "He really wasn't joking about how serious this is, was he?"

"No, he wasn't," said Cole, who looked around him at the onlookers. "Hey, nothing to see here. Go back to what you were doing."

There were a few mumbled words as people drifted away, and then Carmine shooed the stragglers off. Sam knew Baird would have been mortified if he'd known that people had seen him like this. Hopefully no one would tell him.

"Is there anything we should be doing?" asked Carmine.

Sam exchanged a look with Cole, before she shook her head. "No, just make him as comfortable as we can so that he's got fewer aches when he comes around."

"He may be a bit confused, but he should get his shit together after a few minutes," added Cole.

The four of them waited like that until Private Jensen came dashing through the door with his medical kit.

"Has he come round yet?" he asked.

"No," said Cole.

"We should get him on his side," said the young medic. "Sometimes people throw up during or after a seizure."

"I don't think he's eaten anything to throw up," said Cole, but he, Sam and Carmine gently rolled Baird onto his right side.

Jensen had his stethoscope out and was checking Baird's heart rate when the mechanic's eyes began to flutter open. Then they were darting from side to side and clearly Baird was trying to put all the pieces together in his scrambled brain.

"Hey, Baird, it's okay. You had a seizure. You're on Azura in the Operations Building," said Cole.

Sam was impressed by how calm and collected Cole was managing to sound. She doubted her own voice would have managed such a reassuring tone, and Cole had only seen one more seizure than she had. It took Baird a few moments before he replied.

"What?" he asked.

Cole just repeated what he'd said once already. This time Baird seemed to take it in better.

"Oh," he said. "How long was I out?"

"A few minutes," said Cole.

"Shit," replied Baird. "Do I need to go back to the Medical Centre?"

Jensen shook his head. "No, but you will need someone to stay with you today and tonight in case you have another seizure, and Hayman will want to see you tomorrow. I expect she'll want to adjust your meds again."

Baird groaned. "Crap."

"Hey, it won't be that bad," said Sam. "We can have a sleepover, I'll stay on your couch and we can play cards or something."

"Whoop de do," said Baird, his voice rough and weak sounding. His eyes fell shut again.

"He's going to be tired," said Jensen, quietly, aiming his words at Cole and Sam. "I'd suggest you get him back to his quarters and let him sleep it off."

"If he's bitching about stuff then he'll be fine," said Cole. "Hey, Baird, do you feel up to getting back in the wheelchair."

Baird groaned again, but his eyes flicked open to look up at Cole. "I guess it's better than the floor."

All four Gears gently got Baird into a sitting position and then levered him up from the ground onto his good leg. Carmine grabbed the chair and moved it around so that all Baird had to do was sit down. Baird sighed in defeat as he settled back.

"Well that sucked," said Baird.

Cole put a hand on Baird's shoulder for a second. Then he gently made it clear to Carmine that he'd be doing the pushing of Baird's wheelchair. Sam was always slightly amazed at just how much Cole cared for Baird. The two of them had a very unlikely friendship, but she'd seen Baird go out of his way to keep Cole safe and vice versa.

"Yeah, it didn't look much fun," said Cole. "But Hayman'll get the meds sorted and you'll be fine."

"Yeah, that's definitely what's going to happen," replied Baird in a tone that made it absolutely clear that he didn't think that was what was going to happen.

"Give the Doc a chance, blondie," said Sam. "Hey, Carmine, could you run to the mess hall and grab us some food. I bet Baird is hungry and I'm almost certain that you haven't got a single item of food in that place of yours."

"Sam, all I want to do right now is sleep," said Baird, in a resigned tone that she didn't think she'd ever heard him use before.

"Yeah, but when you wake up, you'll want food," said Cole. "Go on, Carmine, do as the lady says."

Carmine gave a nod and headed off towards the mess hall. Jensen left to report back to Hayman, saying he'd check in again later on the coms to make sure everything was okay.

Cole moved off and Sam walked along beside him, keeping one eye on their charge. She sort of felt like Cole needed the back-up at the moment. As they passed out through the wide double doors, she realised that someone else had been watching them. Marcus was stood on the landing above them, looking down on the atrium. The weather office was on that floor, Sam remembered, so he had probably been checking in there before heading out with Zeta on the patrol boat. The look on his face was unreadable and he turned away before he could notice that Sam had seen him.

Sam had always had difficulty reading Marcus Fenix, but there was one thing that she had worked out. He cared about his squad members. He'd performed ridiculous acts of heroism to save them in the past, including driving Baird from Maran to Jacinto to get the medical attention that he needed. He'd walked with Dominic Santiago into the Hollow so that he could find his Maria, and he'd refused an airlift back to base before the Hammer of Dawn strike, because the rest of his squad weren't included. If you were part of Marcus's circle, if he regarded you as his to protect, then nothing would stop him from doing everything he could to keep you safe.

The problem was that he couldn't succeed every time. Sometimes Marcus couldn't keep his friends safe because he really was only human, despite what the rumours said. Marcus wasn't good at failure and clearly he wasn't taking Baird's injury well.

It was about at this point that Sam worked out why, and kicked herself for not seeing it before. He blamed himself. He thought it was his fault that Baird had fallen, or at least that he hadn't been able to stop him. She shook her head. Hopefully Anya had worked it out too and he had someone to talk things through with. Guilt like that could eat you up from the inside if you weren't careful, she'd seen it happen to other Gears when their buddies were killed or injured. Maybe that was why he was being quite so insistent that Baird shouldn't be allowed to give up.

The walk back to Baird's apartment was quiet, although Cole and Sam did their best to start up a conversation. Baird was either too worn out or too disinterested to join in. He did take a moment to com Doctor Hayman and tell her it was okay to give Anya the details of his condition, but that was it. Sam's heart was sinking. She didn't know how to help him, or how to fix any of the problems that they faced here. All she could really do was stand beside her friend, which might be hard because she was fairly sure that Baird was going to be even more of an arsehole than usual. Still, she'd kind of come to realise that she had a definite soft spot for Baird and his abrasive wit. She'd missed it while he'd lain silent and unconscious and she didn't want to lose him again. Sam began to think.

* * *

Anya had to take a few moments to work out her next move after Baird left. She sent Sam and Carmine after him and Cole, because she thought Cole might need a break from looking after Baird. That was something that she was going to have to look at seriously. Cole was going to want to be there to push Baird around until his leg healed, but Cole also had duties as head of one of the building teams. His team could work on their own without him for the odd day, but she'd either need to appoint a new team leader or find someone to push Baird's wheelchair longer term.

She hated this stuff. This wasn't the kind of decision making that she was used to. When she'd been in Ops, she'd had information at her finger tips and mostly relayed orders that others had issued. Occasionally she'd needed to make quick decisions - to send Gears one way or another, whether to airlift a team or send out a 'dill – but she'd always had the information to make those decisions. It had taken her a while to get comfortable with command and being the one who issued the orders. Hoffman had trusted her though, he'd trusted her with Azura and the few thousand Gears who'd ended up calling it home. She'd taken his trust in her very seriously.

She lent on her desk and went through the situation. She had a workshop with an injured team lead, Baird, who was currently looking at a medical discharge. Even if she could persuade Hayman not to file the discharge papers, then Baird still needed recovery time and wouldn't be back at work for a while. She didn't begrudge him the time either, no one had worked as hard as Baird to get the place up and running, but she still had a base to maintain.

She had a boyfriend with injured pride, Marcus, who was currently blaming himself and wouldn't talk to her about it. They never seemed to get a moment to themselves when she could broach the subject properly. She had an ally in Cole, who would help her to smooth over relations between Baird and Marcus, but none of them could do anything about Baird's medical condition or the fact that Marcus's best friend was dead. She couldn't help but keep thinking that so much of this came back to Dom's decision to sacrifice himself, but she had no way of using that information.

Baird's workshop was just another problem on her books at the moment. Carmine had been right about Corporal Brennan, she tried hard, but she didn't have Baird's experience or genius for cutting to the heart of a problem. Jobs in the workshop were backing up to unacceptable levels, far worse than Baird had ever allowed. They still had a communications dish that hadn't been replaced, which meant that they'd been out of regular touch with Anvil Gate and the Gorasni for nearly a month. This hadn't been much more than an annoyance until the fishing boat incident this morning. Now, they really needed to warn Anvil Gate that there was a possible new threat out there. The weekly Raven mail drop was all very well, but it wasn't fast.

Building work around the island continued, as did clearing rubble and repairing damage from the final fight for the island. It was a lifetime's worth of work, but they just needed things to be in a stable configuration so that they wouldn't fall on someone and injure them. She'd had all the scaffolding and roof tops checked after Baird's fall, along with the guide ropes and ladders, to make certain that nothing like that could happen again. She doubted they'd never have another accident, but at least it wouldn't be the same circumstances causing it.

Hayman might be the answer to one of her problems and perhaps provide more information about some of the others. Anya tidied away the clutter of maps and plans that had spilled across her desk and informed her aide that she was going to the Medical Centre to see the doctor.

The walk to the Medical Centre was all too familiar these days. She'd done it too many times to count and she never enjoyed it. At least on this occasion she wasn't making the trip to see an injured friend. When she walked in, Hayman was talking to Private Jensen, one of the Medics, and apparently Hayman's best hope for the next generation of doctors. She waited for them to conclude their conversation before she approached.

"Have you got a minute to discuss Corporal Baird?" she asked the doctor.

Hayman nodded, checking her watch. "As long as we're not too long," she replied, leading the way to her own office.

"I just have a few questions," said Anya, as she stepped into the Doctor's office. She hadn't spent much time in this room, but the grandeur and old world feel reminded her of Adam Fenix's study back at the Fenix mansion.

"Then ask away," said Hayman, taking a seat behind the desk. "He already called in and let me know that I should expect your visit and that he'd given his permission for me to tell you what you need to know."

"Baird said that you're giving him a medical discharge. I wanted to know if there was any way that you'd reconsider. Even with a diagnosis of epilepsy, there are things that he could do," said Anya.

"It depends how closely you want to stick to the old COG regulations," said Hayman. "If we're being strict, then a diagnosis of epilepsy would have meant an automatic medical discharge back when we were a civilisation, but as you know, over the course of the war a lot of that was relaxed. Anyone who could still function was put to work, and medical discharges were regularly revoked. That isn't a state that I particularly advocate a return to – pressuring disabled soldiers into work usually leads to bad outcomes. A medical discharge is, in my opinion, the best thing for Corporal Baird's physical health."

"And his mental health?" asked Anya.

"I suspect you already know the answer to that, otherwise you wouldn't be asking the question," replied Hayman.

"If Baird agreed that he'd prefer to remain a Gear and I could give you a list of his duties, would that make a difference?"

Hayman nodded. "It would, but Colonel Hoffman would have the final say on whether the discharge can be waived. There's a procedure to be followed, and the impact on the Gears working with him is as important as his own health. He wouldn't be able to do anything that might endanger someone else. I know that you're one of his friends, and you want to help him, but you have to consider the big picture and whether it's worth making the necessary allowances to let him continue working."

"What allowances are we talking about?" asked Anya.

"I'm sure you're aware of the basics of epilepsy and Corporal Baird has a fairly classic case," said Hayman. "Simply put, he can't do anything that might be dangerous if it were to be interrupted by a seizure. Obviously there are degrees of risk, but given his usual line of work, he'd be unable to work alone. I wouldn't be able to clear him for regular active duties or allow him to, say, go climbing around scaffolding. His working hours would need to be tightly controlled, and you'd need to ensure that he got a reasonable amount of rest time. Failing to get the right amount of sleep could exacerbate his condition. If I can stabilise his medication so that his seizures are under good control, then we may be able to relax some of the rules."

"Okay," said Anya, "I'm not hearing anything that's insurmountable. We're past the days when we had to worry about grubs appearing out of the ground, so carrying a weapon isn't a problem. Even making sure that there's someone else in the workshop shouldn't be that much of an issue, or getting the rest of the team to distribute the work so that Baird doesn't have to do something that would put him in danger. He'll just have to get used to it. Can you draft the paperwork to waive the discharge? It can go out to Hoffman on the next Raven."

Hayman nodded. "As long as Corporal Baird's agreeable. He'll need to sign this," she handed Anya a page long document, with a place to sign at the end. "I'll have my part ready to go for the morning mail collection."

Anya turned to go and then stopped. "Is there any information you can give me on epilepsy? I mean, I'd like to know more and maybe have something that I can tell his staff before he comes back to work officially."

Hayman pulled open a drawer and shuffled through some papers. "I'd love to give you a handful of leaflets to distribute, but I only have a couple left so I'd appreciate them back once you're done with them."

She handed two COG Medical leaflets to Anya, one of which described possible head injury complications and another which discussed what to expect with someone who was epileptic.

"I just wish that I could offer him a better prognosis," said Hayman, "unfortunately once the drugs are gone, surgery is the only option available and I wouldn't consider myself qualified to perform the required operation."

"Operation?" asked Anya, looking up from the leaflets.

"There had been some success in performing brain surgery to relieve otherwise untreatable epilepsy, but it would have to be performed by highly skilled neurosurgeons. Unfortunately there don't seem to be any neurosurgeons amongst the remaining medical professionals, either here, at Anvil Gate or with the Gorasni," said Hayman, seeming genuinely sorry about this. Anya often found it hard to gauge when the woman was being sarcastic. She could be just as acerbic as Baird with those she found tiresome, but this time wasn't one of those moments.

"Baird said he had about a year before the drugs run out," said Anya.

"Yes, although I may have to revise that downwards if I can't get his seizures under better control than they are now," said Hayman. "Anvil Gate has a small supply, but their pharmacy was nowhere near as well stocked as this one. We're lucky we have anything at all."

"And there's no way to make more?" asked Anya.

"We don't have the correct chemicals, or the knowledge of how to combine them. A lot of drug companies kept their drug recipes a secret. You'd probably have to actually find someone who worked for the drug company if you wanted to know how to make it," said Hayman.

Anya sighed. "So what's left? We give Baird the best life we can while he can enjoy it?"

"Surely that's something that we should all hope for," replied Hayman.

Anya just raised her eyebrows. She wasn't sure that there was much she could say to that, so she thanked Hayman for her help and walked back to her office.

* * *

When Cole and Sam got Baird back to his quarters, the cleaning crew were still working, but had mostly finished in the bedroom and bathroom. Baird was once again, almost asleep before they got him to his bed, so Cole was glad that he had clean sheets to sleep on. Even the noise from the ongoing cleaning wasn't going to keep him awake. Cole made sure he was well settled before he pitched in to help with the cleaning. It worried him that Baird was so damn pale at the moment, and that he didn't have much more colour than the sheets he was lying on.

He must have looked pretty grim as he stepped out of Baird's room, because Sam gave him a light punch on the shoulder as he grabbed a broom.

"It'll be okay, blondie's on the mend."

"Yeah, but you heard him. The broken bones will heal, but his head ain't ever going to be right," said Cole.

"You're just asking me to make the obvious joke, Cole," said Sam, with a teasing smile.

"How will we know the difference?" replied Cole.

"Exactly," said Sam. "But seriously, we're going to come up with something. That look Marcus got on his face… well, he's not going to give up until he finds a way to help Baird. Which is all despite our resident smart guy deciding to insult one of his best friends."

Cole shrugged and put his back into the sweeping. "Marcus isn't omnipotent. He can't just wave a magic wand and make it all right."

"The way I see it, it doesn't matter. Marcus is right, we're Delta. We saved the goddamn world. I think we can manage to save one Gear," said Sam. "There have to be places that have what Baird needs, so all we need to do is go get it."

"Yeah, but Baird says that this stuff has an expiration date, so even if we find more, at some point it'll stop working."

"Well then at least we'll have bought some more time to think up a new plan," said Sam.

Cole weighed that up for a moment. Maybe Sam had a point. It was definitely something to think about.

"So, anything that I should know, whilst our friend is out of earshot?" asked Sam, correctly assuming that Baird hadn't told them everything.

Cole leaned the broom against the wall and grabbed the manila folder that Baird had been carrying around. He'd left it lying on the table when he'd come in.

"You might want to read that. It could help for when he next has a seizure, and I reckon there's going to be a few more before Hayman gets his meds fixed," said Cole, with resignation.

Sam gave Cole a worried look but took the folder and read. Half way through she moved over to the newly cleaned couch and sat down. Eventually she closed the file, put it back where Cole had taken it from and went back to washing the kitchen surfaces without a word.

Carmine arrived with food a bit later, but had a duty shift to get to so couldn't stay. A little while after that the cleaning crew left, leaving the apartment quiet and now clean. They'd taken all the dirty towels, sheets and clothes down to the huge machines in the basement of the building where the laundry for the island had been set up. It had all been replaced with fresh linen and that alone had helped the place no end. Cole now didn't think he'd catch some horrible disease if he touched the wrong surface.

Baird woke up about three hours after he'd fallen asleep and hobbled his way through to the lounge area on his single crutch. Cole was doing his best not to hover, but he couldn't help wanting to make sure his friend didn't trip and fall. The last thing Baird needed was another bump on the head. On this occasion he restrained himself, and remained sat on the couch where he was.

"I had no idea the couch was that colour," said Baird, as he sat down heavily, pulling his leg up to stretch it out along the cushions. He shoved one of the small, expensive looking, silk cushions under his knee so that the frame wouldn't dig into the furniture too much. He still didn't look exactly comfortable, and kept adjusting the sling around his broken arm.

Cole could see the scars of old burns on Baird's right ankle from where a polyp had grabbed hold whilst they were out patrolling on the Clement from Vectes. Baird had been lucky not to lose a leg that day, the way that Dom told it. Normally they were hidden under Baird's boot, and it was reminder of his mortality that Cole didn't need at the moment.

"Hey, where are all my machine parts?" asked the blond.

Sam brought a cardboard box over and thumped it down on the ornate, glass-topped coffee table. "There you go. All yours, knock yourself out."

Baird looked like someone had just declared Winterfest early. He sorted through the box, one handed. "I'd forgotten that I left some of this stuff here. That might actually be able to fix the Pack'." He pulled out a part and held it up to the light to examine it more closely.

"Yeah, well all that can wait until you've had something to eat," said Cole.

"I'm not that hungry," said Baird. He moved stiffly, trying to get comfortable and winced a little as he attempted a move to get his leg into a better position.

"You have to eat something," said Sam. "Have you even had anything since you left the Medical Centre this morning?"

Baird sat back against the sofa cushions, and just gave Sam a look. "Have you been taking lessons in how to mother hen from Cole? I don't remember you being this nice before."

"Yeah, Baird, make fun of the people who are trying to help you," said Sam. "You know that's going to go down really well. Why don't you just shut your mouth, give it time to rest, and think about that while I get you something to eat. I'll warm up some of that soup Carmine brought over."

Cole was amused to note that the only reply Baird could muster to that was a scowl, whilst Sam moved off into the kitchenette to heat the soup she'd mentioned.

"I think she's got better at the comebacks too," said Baird, quietly enough that only Cole could hear.

"Oh yeah, she owned your ass," said Cole, with a smile. This had all the makings of an interesting development, and he was sort of pleased to see that Baird was at least up to some of his usual banter.

Sam and Cole had always gotten on pretty well, whereas Baird and Sam had a somewhat difficult relationship. Cole was never quite sure what to make of it. They seemed to enjoy antagonising one another until one of them took it too far, usually Baird, and then the other would storm off until the next time. Clearly Sam had had enough of that cycle and perhaps Baird had too. Cole very carefully hadn't teased him about telling Sam to "take care of herself" as they'd begun their assault on Azura's main tower. In his opinion, Baird could do with showing that side of his personality more often.

Cole's com sounded and he answered it with a tap.

"Cole here, go ahead."

"Cole, Anya. I've got paperwork for Baird to sign. Is he awake?"

"Yeah, come on over, Sam and I are just trying to get some food into him," said Cole, looking at Baird, who, of course, could only hear one side of the conversation.

"Okay, I'll be there in five," said Anya. "Oh and it's good news. I'll explain when I get there."

"Anya's coming over," said Cole.

"Oh good," said Baird. "I really needed more rules to order my life with."

"She means well," said Sam, as she walked over with a tray with a bowl of soup on it and some crackers. "Eat your soup."

"I didn't even know I had bowls," said Baird, as Sam put the tray across his lap. Baird picked up the spoon. "Are you giving me invalid food? That's what this is, isn't it?"

"You were eating that white protein goo last week, so you should probably be happy that you've graduated to real food," said Sam.

"This is not real food," said Baird, stirring the soup with trepidation.

"I can make aeroplane noises for you if it'll help," said Cole, snatching the spoon off Baird and pretending to turn it into an aeroplane heading towards Baird's mouth.

"Give me that," said Baird, retrieving his spoon.

He tentatively took a spoonful of the soup to his mouth and swallowed it, making a face as he did so. He dunked his spoon again and slowly slurped a second mouthful. Cole got the distinct impression that he was only doing this to keep him and Sam happy – Baird wasn't normally a slow eater.

"So what was all that "going on patrol with Zeta" crap? Since when does Marcus go out on harbour patrol?" asked Baird.

"We lost a fishing boat," said Sam. "There are some new weirdos out there calling themselves the Soldiers of the Nation of Ostri. It sounds like it was just some Stranded who've got themselves a fancy title. Marcus, Carmine and Jace pulled the crew of the boat out of the water after it went down. Anyway, Anya's sending out escorts with the fishing boats until we can make sure it's safe out there again."

Cole frowned. He didn't like the sound of this, and of course he'd missed all the briefings and radio chatter while he'd been taking care of Baird. How they were going to make sure that Baird had someone with him until the seizures settled was something that he'd have to discuss with Anya. He couldn't take every duty shift off until Baird was well again, it wouldn't be fair on his crew.

"I knew things had been too quiet recently," said Baird. "Humans are too good at killing stuff to just let that talent go to waste." He grimaced and rolled his shoulders, which didn't seem to help. Cole noticed that he was holding himself carefully again. Clearly something was causing him pain but in a very un-Baird-like move he wasn't complaining about it.

"Shouldn't you have taken your pain pills when you woke up?" asked Cole.

Baird glared at him. "They're only to be taken when needed."

"I'll get them," said Sam, heading for the bedroom.

"Guys, I don't need them," said Baird.

"The way you're holding yourself, makes it kind of obvious that you're hurting," said Cole.

Baird sighed and accepted the bottle of painkillers from Sam, along with the glass of water that she brought with her. He took two pills and put the bottle on the table. He picked up one of the crackers and took an unenthusiastic bite.

There was a knock at the door. Cole went to let Anya in.

"Hey there," said Cole, as he opened the door for Anya to come in.

"Hi, Cole," said Anya. She had papers in her hands. "I just need Baird to sign this."

"What is it?" asked the mechanic. "Finally decided to that it's me you want to marry?"

Cole rolled his eyes and Anya shook her head.

"I think Marcus might have something to say about that," said Anya. "No, this is your discharge waiver. You need to sign to say that you don't want a medical discharge. I have to write something about the duties you'll be doing and Hayman has to agree that you'd be capable of them. Then we send everything to Colonel Hoffman and he gives it his approval. Meaning you get to stay being a Gear, and we continue to have the pleasure of your delightful company," said Anya.

"Nice one, Anya," said Sam.

Anya handed Baird the paperwork and pen. Baird hadn't said a word. He looked at the document in his hand and the pen.

"Sign at the bottom of the page," said Anya, "then I can get it out to Hoffman on the morning Raven."

Baird moved his soup across the tray a bit so that he had room to put the document down. Cole shifted it onto the table to give him more room. Baird put the pen to the paper and paused.

"What's the matter?" asked Cole.

"I need some time to think," said Baird. "And I need some time to read what I'm signing."

"Hey, I'll read it to you," said Cole, suddenly realising that it would take Baird a while to get through the legal document with his current reading speed.

Baird shook his head. "I don't know if it's the right thing."

"What the hell do you mean by that?" asked Sam. "Of course, it's the right thing."

"So we can go back to how things were before I fell off a building? Forget that I'm brain damaged?" asked Baird angrily. "I can go back to fighting the same losing battle with the technology on this island that I was, cannibalising one vehicle after another to keep the rest running. There wasn't any point to that before and there's even less now."

"Baird," said Anya, gently. "We need you. There are a hundred and one things on this island that are better because you made them that way. How many people would have died from drinking bad water if you hadn't fixed the water treatment plant? How many Gears would have died from infection if you hadn't helped expand the medical centre so that they had clean, safe places to recover? We'd probably all be starving now if it wasn't for you getting the refrigeration unit running again in the walk-in freezers."

"You heard the lady, she ain't wrong," said Cole. "And you know I'd miss your ugly face."

"Don't forget his sparkling wit," added Sam, teasingly, taking a seat on the coffee table. "I know I'd cry my eyes out if you weren't around to make daily jokes at my expense."

"It's not enough," said Baird. "I mean what did we fight for all this time? A civilisation that's slowly slipping back into the dark ages?" He put the pen down.

Cole moved forwards on his seat. "Nah, baby, that's not what I was fighting for, because that isn't what's going to happen. But I just want there to be a place we can all live out our days in peace."

"That's going to be less time for some of us than others," said Baird, tiredly. "Look, already you're all making allowances for me. Cole's taken time off and Sam, you're going to stay here tonight. Anya, you're talking about making changes in the workshop so that I can keep working. We've got limited resources and man power. I'm just going to be a drain on those if I stay."

"Every time you fix a piece of technology, you make life easier for the people on this island and you give us time that we can use to do something that isn't just about pure survival," said Anya. "And that means we have time to plan and not just react. There has to be a solution to our technology problem, and if we have enough space to breathe, we'll be able to find it. Maybe you're not going to be working at top speed anymore, but I'm not convinced that was a good thing anyway. I'd take Damon Baird at fifty percent capacity over no Damon Baird at all."

"I need to think," said Baird.

"What the fuck is there to think about?" asked Sam. "We need you and we want you to stay."

"It's not that simple, Sam," said Baird.

"It's not that complicated either," replied Sam.

"I just… need time," said Baird.

Cole put a hand on Baird's shoulder. "Then we'll give you time, right, Sam? Anya?"

Anya nodded. "Keep the paperwork. Let me know what you decide."

Baird just nodded back thoughtfully, as he tried to read the first paragraph of the discharge waiver. Sam got to her feet and stalked into the kitchen, where she began washing up a saucepan loudly.

Anya's com sounded. "This is Stroud." There was a pause whilst she listened to the person at the other end. "He's doing what?" She glanced over at Cole.

"Okay, we'll meet them at the docks when they come in. Stroud out."

Cole frowned. There could only be one person who'd get that reaction from Anya. "What's Marcus up to now?"

"I have no idea," said Anya. "I'd better get down to the dock. I'll let you know the detail when I have a handle on what's going on."

With that, Anya left Baird to nibbling at his crackers, Sam to her angry cleaning and Cole trying to work out how he could persuade Baird that there was more to life than fixing Packhorses.

* * *

Marcus had met up with Zeta at the Azura docks. He couldn't get the image of Baird seizing on the floor of the atrium out of his head. This was all because he hadn't been strong enough to hold on, and he hadn't been careful enough with Baird's safety. He couldn't blame Baird for being mad at him, although his choice of insult was poor. The last thing Marcus wanted was to pick up where either his father or Chairman Prescott left off. The idea was to build a better Sera for the future, not recreate the past. He did his best to shake off the unhelpful thoughts that his brain was sending out and concentrate on the task at hand.

Zeta-One were commanded by Sergeant Alex Brand, who Marcus knew fairly well and had worked with before. She had a shapely figure, light green eyes and short red hair. She was probably Baird's least favourite person and she didn't care much for the blond mechanic either. With one foot on the rail around the boat, she stood with her Lancer ready in the crook of her arm, her armour looking well-kept and recently cleaned. That was more than Marcus could say about his own plates, which had only been dusted off that morning because of the fishing boat incident.

"Sergeant," he said in greeting, as he climbed on board the patrol boat.

"Sergeant," Alex replied. "Good to see you. It's been a while."

"Yeah. Are you ready to go? If those bastards are out there, I want them caught," said Marcus.

"I think we can manage that," said Alex, looking around at her squad, who were three of the meanest looking Gears that Marcus had ever laid eyes on. Every single one of them had copious scars and tattoos, which wasn't particularly unusual, but the number of both was quite high even for Gears. One of them had a missing ear that looked like it had been chewed off by a wretch. Marcus recognised them as Teucer, Quinn and Roberts, veterans of many battles against the grubs, including Operation Hollow Storm.

The boat captain cast off from the docks and they headed out to the open water. Alex was wandering around the edge of the deck, keeping careful watch on the horizon. She stopped beside Marcus for a second, the two of them leaning against the edge of the boat and looking out to sea.

"I heard Baird got out of the Medical Centre after his climbing accident," she said.

"Yeah, you heard right," said Marcus. This wasn't a topic he particularly wanted to discuss at the moment. The point of joining this patrol had been to get him away from his troubles on Azura.

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy," said Alex. "So what was he doing that meant he managed to fall off a building? Knowing him, he was screwing around and it came back to bite him."

Marcus turned swiftly to face Alex. "You listen here; Corporal Baird was on that roof so that we could maintain communications with Anvil Gate. He did nothing wrong. I fell, he tried to pull me up and ended up going over the edge when his tether broke. I've lost count of the number of times that something Baird did has saved all of our lives, you were there for one of them, so you should probably keep your opinions to yourself."

The shock on Alex's face would have been amusing at any other time, but Marcus wasn't in the mood. She quickly pulled herself together. "Uh, okay, sorry Sergeant. I'll try to remember that."

Alex walked onwards towards the prow of the ship, leaving Marcus to his thoughts. He leaned on the side and looked out across the water. He had nothing against Alex, but she'd hit on the one thing that he didn't want to talk about. And he was kind of fed up of hearing about how Baird falling was because he'd done something stupid. Baird might get creative about following orders and have a smart mouth, but he certainly wasn't careless or stupid. He'd never have survived the war if he'd been either of those things.

He wondered if he should apologise to Alex for snapping, but what she'd said had been out of line. Even if Baird hadn't been a friend, he'd have considered the remark inappropriate when speaking about a wounded Gear. Still, he and Baird needed to have a talk when he got back to port, they couldn't leave things the way they had. The sun was beginning to go down and they'd have to turn around soon, so he'd get his chance soon enough.

"Hey, I've got something!" shouted Alex, from the front of the ship. "It looks like another ship."

Marcus jogged to the front of the boat.

"One of ours?" she asked, handing Marcus the binoculars that she'd been using.

"There shouldn't be anyone else out here. Anya recalled all the fishing boats until we could get escorts organised," said Marcus. "Anything on the radio?"

The boat captain shook his head. "I tried contacting them, but no one's answering. I used all the normal frequencies, but if they can hear us, they're not saying anything."

He put the binoculars to his eyes and focused them on the other vessel. As the ship came round, turned by the current in this bit of the channel, he could see that it was a larger boat than the one that they were on. It looked like it was grey in colour and had a very military bearing to it. He caught a number and letters on its side, marking it as UIR Navy. That should have meant that it was Gorasni, but he didn't remember there being a ship this size in their fleet. A torn-edged flag fluttered in the wind at the back of the boat and it looked like black cross, with curved inside edges, on a white background.

"It's flying the Ostrian flag," said Marcus, recognising the symbol. "They must be the ones who sank the fishing boat."

Something was roped to the prow of the boat, tied to either side of the pointed keel. It was red and with ragged edges of cloth covering parts of it. Then it moved and Marcus realised that it was a person.

"Shit, they've got a man strapped to the front of that thing," said Marcus. "He's still alive."

"Shit," said Alex. "How much firepower do they have?"

He kept looking and caught sight of a prow mounted gun mostly hidden under a tarpaulin, and eventually people, probably the crew of the boat.

"I've got six armed men and a fixed position gun," said Marcus, handing the binoculars back to Alex.

"Those aren't good odds," replied Alex, looking at the gun. "That thing could tear us to pieces before we even get there. On the positive side, I don't think we've been spotted yet."

The COG patrol boat had a fixed gun too, but the UIR boat was winning in the size and range stakes. They'd be within firing range of the larger vessel before they could have a hope of hitting anything.

"Call it in," shouted Marcus, heading up to see the radio operator. "Lieutenant Stroud needs to know about this."

"We should head back and get reinforcements," said Alex, following him.

"They'll be long gone by the time we do, and whoever's strapped to the front of that boat will be dead," said Marcus. "How's your front crawl?" He began undoing the buckles that held his armour in place.

Alex started to follow suit. "Pretty damn good since we started living on islands," she replied. "What's your plan?"

"We'll need to get in as close as possible; the light's fading so that should give us half a chance of making it without being seen. We'll need the boat to come round for a couple of passes with the gun and keep them distracted," said Marcus. A glance at the boat captain told him that he'd understood the plan too. Marcus had sailed with him before and he knew what he was doing.

"Quinn, get down here on the big gun," shouted Alex. "Teucer, Roberts, once we're closer make sure you keep them occupied. If they see us while we're in the water then we're done for." She looked at Marcus. "So we grab the guy and get the hell out of there?"

"I thought we might do some damage as well," replied Marcus. He held up a couple of bolo grenades. "If we use yours too then it might be enough to put a hole in the hull."

Alex smiled. "I like the sound of that."

"Okay, then we're on," said Marcus. "Let's move."

Zeta-One knew how to follow orders, and were rapidly getting into position. Marcus and Alex stripped down to t-shirts and underwear. The water around Azura wasn't so cold that it would be a problem, but it was still pretty cold. They'd have to swim fast and get to their target quickly. They bagged the grenades up in plastic, along with their hand guns and radios, then tied them to their belts.

"Are you sure about this, Sarge?" asked Quinn, talking to Alex. "There's going to be a lot of bullets flying around."

"Yeah, I'm aware," replied Alex. "Hell, I haven't been in a decent fire fight since we took down the last of the Locust. This should be a walk in the park compared to what we're used to dealing with, but that doesn't mean you ladies get to relax. And if one of you clips me with a bullet, I'll have your balls."

"Coming?" asked Marcus, as he got ready to slip over the side.

Alex strode over to the side of the boat and slid into the sea. Her t-shirt darkened in the water. "When you're ready, Fenix," she said and began swimming.

"Don't be late to pick us up," said Marcus, to Quinn, and he too got into the water and began swimming.

The two Gears swam swiftly and quietly up to the boat, so far they had remained unnoticed. They weren't wearing life jackets, so if anything went wrong then they'd sink without a trace, and there was a lot that could go wrong. The increasingly low light was helping at the moment, but when it came time to make their getaway it might not be so helpful. Their own boat would have just as much trouble spotting them.

Marcus reached the hull first, grabbing hold of the anchor chain. He used the hull to move quietly along towards the prow, Alex a few feet behind him. They heard two people above them begin to have a conversation in a language that neither of them spoke. Marcus made an educated guess that it was Ostrian. He used hand signals to indicate that they should keep going.

The sound of water lapping against the hull seemed loud in Marcus' ears, but he knew that it wasn't to the people on board. Finally they reached their destination and Marcus was able to get a better look at the person roped to the front of the boat. He was tied with his back to the ship, with rope wrapped around his lower arms which was then slung over the prow. The legs were tied together, awkwardly to one side, with more rope attaching them to a hook that was used to secure buoys along the side of the vessel. It looked uncomfortable, and Marcus was almost surprised to find out that the person was still breathing. There was blood soaking his clothing, which was filthy and encrusted with salt. Blood also covered his head which had fallen down so that the chin rested against their chest, his hair was so badly matted with it that Marcus couldn't have even made out what colour it really was, especially in the low light.

Marcus examined the ropes, wondering how best to deal with them and make the minimum noise. Equally he didn't want to exacerbate any injuries that the prisoner had further. He took out his combat knife and began to work away at the ropes holding the legs together while Alex held them in position. The ropes were thick, but eventually Marcus had cut his way through them. Freeing the legs elicited a low groan from the man. Both Marcus and Alex froze for a moment, but apparently either no one on the boat had heard it or they were used to their prisoner/figurehead making noises. They got back to work.

Working on the arms was harder, so they took one side each, hacking away at the rope. Marcus got through his first, and supported the weight of the man as Alex finished her side. Marcus tapped his radio, thanking the Allfathers that the COG had decided to make their radios waterproof.

"Zeta, you have a go," he said in a whisper.

He heard the sound of the motor start up nearby, as apparently did the crew of the enemy boat. There was movement on the deck above and some shouting. Alex held the prisoner's head up and out of the water, whilst Marcus removed the grenades from the plastic they were wrapped in. They swapped whilst Alex did the same.

They waited for the patrol boat to make its first run, and a few seconds later heard the sound of bullets being fired.

"Now," said Marcus, and the two them lobbed their grenades up and onto the deck. The first two were followed by two more, and then Marcus and Alex were rapidly kicking themselves away from the side of the boat, their newly rescued prisoner held between them.

The first explosion was very pleasing and also had the added advantage of killing the man who'd taken up the gun position. The second, third and fourth just added to the confusion and flames licking the deck.

"Now, this is my kind of mission," said Alex, as she kicked backwards. "Screw repairing accommodation blocks, lets blow some stuff up."

Zeta and the patrol boat came past for another run, but it was fair to say that the Ostrians didn't have much enthusiasm for a fight at this point. Marcus waved in the direction of the patrol boat and the third pass ended with them being picked up out of the water. Blankets were thrown around the swimmers as the patrol boat turned tail and headed for home.

Marcus knelt down by the man that they'd rescued, who was still breathing, if raggedly. He had all of the marks of someone who'd spent a lot of time outside recently, and not in a healthy way.

"Hey, we need water," said Marcus.

Someone shoved a canteen in his direction and he put it to the cracked lips of their rescued prisoner. He drank enthusiastically, and Marcus had to remove the canteen before he could drink too much and make himself sick. There was still some painful coughing and Marcus realised that the underlying breathing didn't sound quite right. The guy wasn't in good shape and the sooner they got him back to port and proper medical attention the better.

Now that he was laid out, Marcus could see a number of wounds across his body that were in varying stages of healing and a huge array of bruises. The ropes had bit into his skin and created raw, red marks along his arms and legs. Anywhere the skin had been exposed to the sun was burned red and angry.

The man looked young, although it was hard to tell through the grime, salt and dried blood exactly how old he was. He was thin, and weighed less than he should for his height. However what caught Marcus's attention was the colour of his hair. The swim back had washed away much of the blood to reveal that it was a bright, copper colour, and Marcus knew someone else who had that exact hair colour. The more he looked at the man, the more he wondered.

"It can't be," said Marcus. He looked at the man's neck, hoping to find COG tags, but instead found a red mark where a chain had probably been torn off. Further examination found a tattoo on his right bicep: the wings of the COG Air Corps.

The young man shivered, and Marcus tucked the blanket around him closer. If this was who he thought it was, then they'd just been handed a small miracle and he had to do all he could to get him back to Azura safely.

"Radio base and tell them to have casevac standing by at the dock," Marcus shouted up. "We've got a wounded Gear here."


	8. Chapter 8

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 7, your reviews are much loved. Bonus point to FromAshesBorne for a good guess at the identity of our rescued prisoner.

* * *

Anya made it down to the docks as rapidly as she could whilst still looking professional. A deep thread of disappointment was running through her head as she walked. She had hoped that Baird would simply sign the document to waive his medical discharge and then they could have got on with the business of figuring out how to get him back to work with as little fuss as possible. Apparently it wasn't going to be that easy. Whatever had been bothering him before the accident was still there, poisoning his outlook on their new start.

Baird wasn't her only problem today though. Marcus had gone chasing after an Ostrian boat and was now heading back to base with a rescued prisoner, who he seemed to think was a Gear. It was typical of Marcus' heroics that he wouldn't just find the boat that had sunk the fishing boat but also rescue someone as well.

She had something of a wait for the patrol boat to return and she used the time to make sure that casevac were ready. Hayman was an old hand at waiting for casualties, but she relayed as much detail as she could to her about her incoming patient. Finally, she could see the boat entering the harbour and drawing up to the dock. After that it was all go with medics and Gears getting the casualty stretchered off the ship and onto the ATV for transport to the Medical Centre. Once all that was done, she was only then able to gather up the members of Zeta-One and Marcus and get the story of what happened. It was pretty grim in the retelling.

"I thought it was only the grubs that did things like that," said Anya.

"Apparently not," said Marcus.

"We put some big holes in that ship so I don't think they'll be coming after our fishing boats again," said Alex.

"Unless they have more boats of their own," pointed out Marcus.

"Then we'll just have to take those down too," said Alex. The other members of Zeta-One were nodding at this.

"Got to find them first," said Marcus. "We got lucky this time."

"Do we have any idea where their prisoner came from or who he is?" asked Anya.

"I've got no idea where he came from, but I think I might have an idea of who he is. How many people do we know with hair that colour?" asked Marcus.

Realisation hit Anya as she thought about the red heads that she knew. "Carmine...? He can't be," said Anya.

"I remember Carmine saying that his brother was a Raven pilot, but he didn't know where he was," said Marcus.

"So you think that's the fourth Carmine brother?" asked Anya.

"It might be a coincidence that we've got a ginger haired pilot on our hands, but he kind of looks like him too," said Marcus.

Anya tapped her radio. "Control, this is Stroud. Get me Carmine."

"Yes, Ma'am," replied the radio operator.

Carmine got on the radio. "Carmine here, what can I do for you, Ma'am?"

"I need you to meet me at the Medical Centre," said Anya. "I'll fill you in when you get there."

"Uh, okay, I'm on the wrong side of the island, so I'll be about half an hour," said Carmine.

"Just get here as quickly as you can," said Anya. She clicked the radio off, and looked over at Marcus. "I don't want to get his hopes up. If it isn't his brother, he'll be crushed. Are you going to stand there all day in those wet things, or would you like to change and meet me up at the Medical Centre? You rescued him, so if this is Carmine's brother, I think you should be there for the reunion."

Marcus nodded. "It would be nice to have something good happen for once. I'll meet you there."

Marcus strode off quickly. Anya turned to the rest of Zeta-One.

"Good job, Sergeant, you and your men can take the rest of the night off but we'll need you back on the water tomorrow," said Anya.

Alex nodded. "Yes, Ma'am. You heard her, princesses, fall out. We're done for the night."

Anya watched them walk away up the hill, high-fiving and laughing. Alex had already pulled out a cigar and was beginning to puff on it. It was amazing how much happiness rescuing just one man could bring, and it might bring more yet. She could only cross her fingers and hope at this point. She started the walk up the hill to the Medical Centre.

* * *

Marcus changed out of his damp clothes as quickly as he could manage and jogged up the path to the Medical Centre. He met Carmine coming in from the North of the island on a rat bike. He had his armour on, still with the words "Grub Killer" emblazoned across its front. Marcus had left his own armour in the small apartment that he and Anya shared.

"Hi there, Sergeant," said Carmine, taking off his helmet to reveal the ginger hair that had made Marcus wonder about the identity of their new arrival. "Any idea what's up? Lieutenant Stroud called me up here."

"There's someone we need you to take a look at," said Marcus. "Come on, Anya will have the sit rep."

Carmine looked kind of baffled, but he followed Marcus into the hall of the Medical Centre. The last time they'd both been here together had been when Baird had still been in a coma and no one had been sure if he was going to recover. Marcus really hoped for better news when it came to their rescued prisoner. He looked around for Anya and found her standing in the doorway of the waiting room, with Doctor Hayman beside her.

"What's the news?" asked Marcus.

"I was just talking to the doctor," said Anya.

"Well, he's clearly been beaten, cut and starved. However, the exposure is just as concerning, he's dehydrated and has severe sunburn, which probably all contributed to the case of pneumonia he's got brewing," said Hayman. "But you got him here in time, assuming I can get the infection under control, he should make a full recovery given time and the right care."

Marcus gave a nod of relieved acknowledgement. "Is he allowed a visitor?"

"As long as you don't stay too long, we're still working on dressing his wounds," said Hayman. "He's on high dosage painkillers and probably won't be awake for a while now."

"Okay," said Marcus.

"What's going on?" asked Carmine.

"It could be something, but it might be nothing. Marcus and Zeta squad rescued a man from an Ostrian ship, whilst they were out on patrol this evening," said Anya. "It's possible that you might know who he is. I think the easiest thing is for you to just come in and see if you can identify him. I should warn you that, as the Doc says, he's not in good shape."

"I'm sure I've seen worse," said Carmine.

Anya exchanged a glance with Marcus and he knew she was wondering if this was such a good idea. Marcus just gave her slight nod, indicating that he was still in agreement.

"This way," said Hayman.

She took them through into a room not unlike the one that Baird had lain in for the best part of three weeks. Marcus and Anya followed her with Carmine tagging along at the back.

"Why do you think I might know him?" asked Carmine, as he came into the room.

Marcus didn't want to answer that question, but as Carmine caught sight of the man in the bed, he didn't have to.

"Daniel?" he asked, his voice high and suddenly tight. "Oh my god, Danny!"

"That answers that question then," said Marcus.

Carmine was striding across the room to his brother's bedside. He clearly wanted to reach out and touch him, but the angry red of his skin was stopping him. He turned around, looking at Marcus and then Anya.

"How…? I mean, where did he come from?" asked Carmine. Tears were forming in his eyes and being rubbed away rapidly.

"We don't know," said Anya. "All we have to go on was that he was a prisoner of this new group called the Soldiers of the Nation of Ostri. Hopefully he can give us the full story when he wakes up."

Carmine nodded. "I want to stay with him. I need to be here when he wakes up."

Hayman stepped in at this point. "We've still got some work to do to make sure none of the burns or other injuries get infected. I've got him on antibiotics, as well as painkillers and we're replacing his lost fluids. But you'll have to sit in the waiting room until we've finished our work. I'll come and get you as soon as we're done."

"But you don't understand," said Carmine, "I thought he was dead. I was considering asking Sam to add him to my tattoo. You can't ask me to leave him when I've just found him again."

Hayman sighed. "Very well, there's a seat in the corner, but if you get under our feet I'll have you removed."

"I promise I'll just sit quietly," said Carmine. He took the seat indicated and began undoing his armour.

"Looks like our work here is done for now," said Marcus. "Come on, I think we're both off duty tonight."

Anya smiled and headed for the door. Just as they were about to leave Carmine spoke again.

"Sarge, uh, thanks," he said. "Thanks for finding my brother."

Marcus didn't know what to say in reply to that so he just gave him a nod of acknowledgement and followed Anya.

* * *

Baird had gone to bed early. He had been both annoyed and depressed by Sam's angry cleaning and Cole's attempts at joviality after his refusal to sign the discharge waiver. He really wished he could have done it and made everyone happy, but he just couldn't bring himself to. Instead he'd pleaded fatigue and gone to his room. He was only half pretending as well, the day had been hard and he needed the rest.

He fell asleep, looking forward to a few hours of oblivion. Generally Baird didn't get bad dreams unless he was taking pain medication, when they all came out to haunt him from his subconscious. Baird had often found himself trying to decide as an injury was almost healed, whether the pain from the injury was worse than the dreams the medication elicited. He often skipped the last few days of pain relief to give himself a night free of drug-induced nightmares. Cole didn't approve and had told him so.

Tonight Baird didn't wake himself with bad dreams, tonight he awoke to a light show of flashing colours. He groaned. There was nothing he could do about this, and the bed was probably the best place to have a seizure, but he was still recovering from the previous one. He considered calling out to Cole or Sam, but by the time he'd made the decision to wake them it was too late and the world had shifted into the realm of malfunctioning brain synapses. His vocal chords wouldn't do as they were told and then he was out.

When he came round, it was dark outside. Someone had turned on the bedside light and was sat cross legged beside him on the bed. He quickly identified the person as Sam, but apparently his brain was still too scrambled to actually talk or understand what was being said.

"Glass flannel radiate floor tile discovery," said Sam.

Baird knew that wasn't what she was really saying, but his brain was getting all the words wrong when it translated them from sound to meaning. It would pass, so he contented himself with a groan, because he felt like shit and he had no idea where he was yet. He could taste blood in his mouth and a quick exploration found where he'd bitten the side of his mouth. He felt a hand take his.

"It's okay, Baird, you had a seizure. You're in your quarters on Azura," said Sam.

"Urgh," was all he could manage, and a squeeze of Sam's hand to let her know he'd understood.

"Brain still scrambled? Just give it a moment, I'll get you some water," said Sam.

Baird was gripped by a ridiculous, but all pervasive, fear that he didn't want to be alone right now. He tightened his hold on Sam's hand, making it clear that he didn't want her to go anywhere. He met her eyes and silently pleaded for her to stay where she was.

Sam looked a little surprised, but put a second hand on top of the first. "Okay, I get the message. I'll stay here for a bit."

Inwardly, Baird wondered what was up with him. Was it the head injury that was making him so pitifully needy? He was a Gear, who'd killed more grubs and Lambent than he cared to even think about. Why the sudden need to have someone there with him? He didn't understand it, but it was there.

His limbs began to unfreeze properly and his head started to get its act together.

"Sam?" he asked, testing his voice as much as anything.

She smiled at him. "Yeah. I'm right here."

"How are you here?" he asked.

"I was on seizure watch," said Sam. "Cole and I were trading off shifts tonight. He's asleep on the sofa."

Baird nodded and tried to move his aching limbs, which was when he remembered that two of his them were broken, and gave up.

"I feel like crap," said Baird.

"Want me to call Jensen?" asked Sam.

"No, there's nothing he can do," replied Baird. "What time is it?"

"A little after three in the morning," said Sam. "Biscuit subset wheel go back to sleep."

"Oh crap," said Baird. "Looks like you get a repeat performance tonight."

"Are you going under again, Baird? Baird? Dress towel bag mangle, Baird?" asked Sam, but she gripped his hand tighter and that was all Baird really needed at the moment, as the lights started flashing and he disappeared into the abyss for the second time that night.

When he next woke up Sam was still holding his hand, and although he couldn't understand what she was saying at first, her voice grounded him. He was developing a new fondness for her accent. He blinked up at her as she went through the drill of where he was and what was going on, at least three times before he got it. She got him water and his painkillers when he finally let go of her hand, and he tried desperately not to feel her loss for the few minutes she was away from him.

"Sam?" he asked.

She climbed back onto the bed beside him and took his hand again when he stretched his fingers towards her.

"What is it? Do you need another blanket, it's kind of cold in here."

"Stay," he said. "Please."

She nodded in understanding and shuffled down so that she was lying on the bed next to him, her hand still in his. "You'd better not snore, Damon," she said.

And finally Baird was able to sleep until the morning.

* * *

Anvil Gate was the ass end of nowhere, as Dom had once so elegantly put it. Cole only had one goal in wading through the busy and narrow streets of Anvegad, and that was to find someone that he was looking for. The civilians moved about their daily routine without much enthusiasm, getting in his way and impeding his progress. There was a queue for rations further down the broken cobbled street and he thought he saw who he was looking for there.

There was a flash of blond hair from under a dirty grey hooded top, standing waiting for bread. He looked thinner and older than Cole remembered him, but that didn't seem right. It had only been a few months. The more Cole looked around the more he realised that a lot of this didn't seem quite right. Some of these buildings didn't look like they really belonged on this street.

He walked forwards, calling out to his friend who had just made it to the front of the queue and received a loaf of bread. It reminded Cole of handing out rations to civilians at Port Farrall. His friend turned around towards him and waved. He started walking, actually it was more limping in his direction. Again, that wasn't right, his leg should have healed by now.

The hood fell back to reveal Baird's messy blond hair and trademark goggles. "What are you doing here?" he asked, smiling. He held out an arm that was clasped warmly by Cole.

"Looking for you," said Cole. The crowd seemed to part and flow around them.

"Come on, I'll take you back to my place and we can have a drink," said Baird.

He didn't remember how he got to Baird's place, but before long they were sat in a room of an abandoned building. It had a bed in one corner, with blankets and sheets that had seen better days. There were broken bits of machinery littering the floor and surfaces, because even now Baird couldn't resist tinkering. It had a couple of chairs and a rickety table, which Baird invited him to sit at. Cole was quite frankly disgusted by the place. Baird had helped to defeat the Lambent and Locust and saved Sera, he deserved better than this.

"Sorry about the mess," said Baird, as if he was reading Cole's mind. "I've got some hooch around here somewhere." Baird limped to a cupboard and got out shot glasses and a bottle of clear liquid, which was unlabelled.

"What happened to your leg?" asked Cole.

"Oh, you know, it didn't heal right. Hayman knew what she was doing, the doctors over here, not so much," replied Baird. He set down the glasses and poured two shots of hooch. Cole had never seen his friend looking so tired and ragged. His clothes hung off him and there were deep shadows around his eyes.

"Should you be drinking on your meds?" asked Cole.

"They ran out last month," said Baird, as if it wasn't a big deal. "Look on the bright side, at least it means I can drink again."

"So what have you been doing?"

"Not much. I worked in the Anvil Gate motor pool for a bit, but it got too hard to keep supervising me. Occasionally people bring me stuff and I fix it for them. I earn enough to get my ration stamps," said Baird. He downed his shot in one and yawned. "Sorry, you have to get up early to get in the bread line, and I had a couple of seizures last night." He looked like he was ready to drop.

"Hey, lie down and get some sleep," said Cole. "I can hang around."

Baird just nodded and headed for the bed. He lay down, clearly aching and having trouble getting his awkward limbs to obey. He was asleep in minutes. Cole didn't know what to make of Baird's life here. He looked around where Baird was living and just didn't get it. He very quickly came to a decision, he was taking Baird back to Azura. He went over to wake his friend and instead found him having an epileptic fit, which Cole assumed were a common occurrence these days. This one went on for a long time and when it did stop Cole was shocked to discover that Baird wasn't breathing.

"No, oh no, baby, you cannot be doing this to me," said Cole. He tried everything to get Baird breathing again, but nothing was working.

It was at this point that he woke up, still saying "oh no, oh no". The entire thing had been a rather horrible and disturbing dream.

It took him a moment to remember why he was in Baird's quarters, and that he wasn't actually in Anvegad watching his friend die. He was stiff from sleeping on Baird's couch; it wasn't really big enough for him. He stretched out his muscles, trying to get the kinks out and shake off the dream. He'd had enough nightmares in his time to know how they could leak into the day, and he wasn't going to let this one do that. He wasn't going to let Baird go to Anvil Gate either though, because he couldn't guarantee that some of his dream wasn't going to come true. Still, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it, and even if Baird didn't want to be a Gear anymore, Cole could find a way to keep him on Azura.

He looked around for Sam, who had taken the smaller, two seater couch, but there were only blankets where she'd been sleeping. The door to Baird's room was not quite shut, so he guessed that's where she was.

He rubbed sleep out of his eyes and pushed off his blankets. He sat up, gave his shoulders a roll, and then quietly stepped over to the bedroom door. He pushed the door open a little more so that he could see into the room. He expected to see Sam sat in the chair by the bed, but was slightly surprised to find her lying, spooned protectively around Baird. She was lying on the top of the covers and Baird was underneath on his left side, with his back to Sam and sleeping soundly. Baird wasn't big on invasions of personal space, so this was definitely unusual. It was actually kind of cute.

He allowed himself a smile and then moved off to the kitchen, humming quietly. Maybe Baird had more reasons to stay on Azura than he'd thought. He started finding the things to make coffee and working out where the cleaning crew had hidden Baird's mugs. As he put the kettle on, he heard movement from the other room. He twisted round to see Sam come out of Baird's room.

"Coffee?" asked Cole.

"Yeah, thanks," said Sam.

"Is Baird awake?"

"Nah, he had two seizures last night, I think he's going to be asleep for a while yet," said Sam.

"Damn," said Cole. He wondered if he'd heard them whilst he slept and it had fed into his dream.

"Yeah, and he was kind of scrambled after both of them," said Sam.

"Scrambled?"

"Definitely not our usual Damon Baird," said Sam, coming over to lean on the counter top.

Sam didn't seem to want to elaborate, which was fine as far as Cole was concerned. Unless Baird felt like telling him about whatever had happened between the two of them last night, then it was their own business. Cole set out two mugs and added a spoonful of the instant coffee that he found in Baird's cupboard to each. Having coffee of any kind was still a luxury as far as he was concerned so even the instant stuff was good.

"If you want to get to your shift today, then I can take blondie to his appointment with Hayman," said Sam. "You spent all of yesterday with him, I think I can do my share. I'll clear it with Anya but she shouldn't have a problem."

Cole raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to spend that much time with our resident motor mouth?"

"I'll cope," said Sam. "We can swap at lunch time, or I'll use it as an excuse to get Marcus down here. Then the two of them can settle their differences. He might even get him to sign the stupid paperwork to waive his discharge."

Cole gave a quiet chuckle, as he finished making the coffee. "That might actually work, but our Damon won't be pushed into doing anything he doesn't want to do. We're going to have come up with a plan to win him over."

"Did you have anything in mind?" asked Sam.

Cole shook his head, handing Sam a mug of black coffee. "I wish I did, but I'll be thinking it over. I don't think he really wants to go, he's actually just trying to do the right thing for once. But you know Baird, dealing with people isn't his strong suit."

"Too right," said Sam, sipping her drink. "But I doubt I'd be taking being diagnosed with epilepsy terribly well if I was in his place. We've all been Gears for so long that none of us would be happy if we were told we couldn't carry a gun, or go on patrol."

Cole nodded in agreement. "Yeah, and he's only been out of the hospital a day. He asked for time, and we have to give him what he needs."

Sam said nothing to that, and Cole got the feeling that she didn't really see it the same way. She didn't understand why Baird wouldn't fight to keep what he had, but Cole thought he had an idea. It was the same reason Baird had shut them out for a week from the Medical Centre, and it had nothing to do with wanting space or needing time. Cole got the distinct impression that Baird just didn't want his friends to see him like this. A medical discharge and going to Anvil Gate was just like a more extreme version of shutting out his visitors.

Cole and Sam chatted idly until Cole was ready to head out. He promised he'd be back as soon as he'd finished his shift and got Sam to promise that she'd com him if anything came up, even though he knew Sam was entirely capable of looking after Baird on her own. He washed up his mug, not wanting to create mess in the very clean apartment, and before Baird had awoken, left for where he was meeting his building crew.

He checked in with Anya on his way, to make sure that she was okay with the arrangement that he and Sam had come up with to find that Sam had just done the same thing. She thought sending Marcus over was a pretty good plan, especially as he was actually in a good mood. When Cole asked why, he was amazed to discover that the previous night's commotion had resulted in Marcus and Zeta-One rescuing Daniel Carmine from the Soldiers of the Nation of Ostri. It was rare that they got such good news and the entire island was buzzing with it.

Cole went to work. They made good progress with the Maelstrom Tower clearance, until about mid-morning, when he turned around to see smoke on the horizon.

"Cole to Control, I can see smoke out in the bay," he checked the position of the sun so that he could give a rough bearing. "Off to the South East. Have we got anyone out there?"

"This is Control, yeah it's one of ours. Some of our Nation of Ostri friends have been up to their tricks again. Minor casualties reported but no fatalities," said the Operator.

"Thank god for that," said Cole.

"Lieutenant Stroud's calling a senior staff meeting for this afternoon, 1pm sharp," said the Operator.

"Okay, tell her I'll be there," said Cole.

* * *

Baird's day had got off to kind of a weird start when Sam had brought him coffee in bed. There had been a strange moment when Baird wondered if he'd dreamt the previous night, because Sam didn't say anything about it at first. He didn't think that his brain was screwed up enough that it would invent an entire dream scenario where she held his hand, but he didn't know. Things were often different in the cold light of day and he wondered if she regretted that moment now.

"Morning, Blondie," said Sam, as she put the coffee down on the bedside table. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was run over by a 'Dill," said Baird.

"Yeah, two seizures in one night will do that to you," replied Sam.

"I didn't dream that then? Or you being here?" asked Baird.

Sam shook her head. Baird groaned.

"Look, my brain was malfunctioning…" said Baird.

"If you say another word then I might just give you a second crack on the head to add to the first one," said Sam.

She held out a hand to him, inviting him to take it, and he did, fully aware and in the light of day. He frowned.

"I don't need your pity, Sam," he said.

"No, but you do need a friend," she replied.

"I'm not good with this stuff," said Baird. "Hell, I don't know why any of you hang around."

Sam sighed. "Because you're our friend, you idiot."

Baird wanted to believe Sam's words, and her touch was definitely more comforting than it had any right to be. Reluctantly he let go of her hand. Getting attached was the last thing he needed right now, it was much better just to shut down his feelings. Once his discharge went through he probably wouldn't be seeing much of Sam anyway.

"I should get up and go to my appointment with Hayman," said Baird.

"Okay, I'll give you a hand," said Sam.

Baird protested but Sam wouldn't hear it. She gave him a hand up and then passed him his crutch so that he could get to the bathroom. This was the first morning that he'd been out of the Medical Centre, so the first time he'd needed to deal with keeping his leg frame clean on his own. He very quickly realised that he was going to have trouble reaching the lower parts himself. His head would spin if he moved too quickly, or bent over too far. He gave up and asked Sam for a hand. She helped him carefully wash the points where the frame entered the flesh of his leg, as per Hayman's very specific instructions. After that she handed him a damp flannel and told him to work the rest out for himself, which he was perfectly happy to do.

Then it was a matter of trying to persuade his stomach that he was hungry and forcing himself to actually eat enough to stop Sam's nagging. It still wasn't much, but it was probably better than nothing. He took his meds and the two of them traded barbs while he ate breakfast, mainly about Baird's deficiency in personal skills and Sam's inability to keep her opinions to herself. It felt normal, and he found himself enjoying their arguing, which was sort of weird.

Sam passed on the news about the mysterious rescue of Daniel Carmine, which intrigued Baird. He wasn't surprised to hear that Marcus had been up to his usual heroics, but how had the final Carmine brother found his way to them? Clearly there were some badass Stranded out there who didn't like the inhabitants of Azura, and that was never a good thing.

When they were ready, Sam pushed him up to the Medical Centre, where Hayman checked his leg, went through his seizure record and, as expected, upped his meds. Baird was more sullen on the journey back to the accommodation block, realising this just meant that he'd run out of meds faster, but he and Hayman had agreed that he'd rather have a short period of being seizure free, than a longer period of occasional seizures. She thought he now had nine months, if they used Anvil Gate's meagre supply as well.

He fell asleep on his couch as soon as he got back to his apartment, still finding himself worn out by even the least possible exertion. When he woke up, Sam had gone and Marcus was making coffee in his kitchen.

"Do you want coffee?" asked Marcus, immediately noting that Baird was awake. "Anya's called a senior staff meeting for 1pm."

Baird frowned. "And what does that have to do with me?"

"You haven't been discharged from the COG yet," said Marcus.

"I was in a drug-induced coma for two weeks and since then I've mostly been sleeping. I've got no idea what's been going on in the real world, and I'm not even in charge of the workshop anymore," said Baird.

"You'll catch up," said Marcus.

"Damn it, Marcus, I've been out of the Medical Centre a day. I don't want to catch up. My arm is fucking killing me and at this moment, I'd happily chop my leg off because it would be less painful than having metal pins running through it," said Baird.

"Forgot to take your pain pills before you went to sleep, huh?" asked Marcus.

Baird rolled his eyes. "Yes, genius. Perhaps you could use your two working legs and fucking get them for me. I left them in the bedroom."

Marcus huffed at him but went into the bedroom to get the pills.

"What are you doing here anyway? I thought Sam had got babysitting duty for the day," said Baird, when Marcus returned.

"She got called out with her patrol group," said Marcus, handing Baird his pills with a mug of coffee. "At least that's what Anya said. Really, I think this is an attempt to get us to clear the air."

"Do we need to clear the air? I'm an asshole. What else is there to say?" asked Baird.

"That depends if you were just trash talking or if you believed anything you said," replied Marcus. He watched Baird take his pills and then took a seat on the smaller of the two couches in Baird's quarters.

"Okay, maybe not the stuff about you picking up where your father and Chairman Prescott left off," said Baird. "The rest of it? Every fucking word." He really hoped these pills kicked in soon, because everything was hurting.

"Oh come on, box monster power ladder trap cushion," said Marcus.

"Damn it," said Baird. "I so do not need this again. Three seizures yesterday wasn't enough?"

"Baird? Muslin controller notebook banjo exclusion prospect?"

"I'm about to have a seizure, Marcus. I have no idea what you're saying. Don't call Hayman she can't help and she just upped my meds," replied Baird. He didn't understand anything that Marcus had said, but he could guess at the enquiry. Of course once the bright lights began flashing behind his eyes, none of it mattered to him anymore because he couldn't move, talk or even see as he went under for the fourth time in less than twenty-four hours.

When Baird woke up, he was on the floor with a blanket over him and a cushion under the head. The sofas and table had been moved out of the way, leaving the room with an open space on the floor where clearly he'd been placed so that he could thrash around without hitting anything. It wasn't a bad idea, but it wasn't going to help the aches and pains that he already had.

"Biscuit cordon rail, you're in your quarters, on the floor, jelly carpet book fragile, Baird," said Marcus.

Baird grunted. His vocal chords weren't cooperating yet. He was getting really good at knowing what to expect after a seizure and it all sucked. He looked around himself and found Marcus.

"You had a seizure, you're in your quarters, you're going to be fine, Baird," said Marcus.

"Marcus," he managed after a good minute or two of trying. "Crap."

"Do I need to call Hayman?" Marcus asked.

"No," said Baird, definitely and rapidly. As usual after a seizure he was tired and he ached, but there was nothing else wrong with him. "My brain's all back in the right boxes again."

"Okay," said Marcus, and simply helped to lever his friend up from the floor and onto the couch.

Baird noticed that several of the papers that had been on his coffee table had moved, and it looked very much like someone had been reading them. His epilepsy information and discharge waiver form had changed places.

"Enjoy your reading material?" he asked.

"I had to do something while I was waiting for you to wake up," said Marcus.

"Hence you knew to get me onto the floor and you weren't surprised when I couldn't understand you," said Baird.

"Yeah, that seems like information we all need to know," said Marcus.

"Cole and Sam read it yesterday while I was sleeping," said Baird.

"How do you know?"

"They got the pages mixed up when they put it back."

Marcus just raised his eyebrows.

"Don't give me that look. If they'd asked then I'd have given it to them, but they didn't ask," said Baird.

"And this?" asked Marcus, holding up the medical discharge waiver form.

"What about it?" asked Baird.

"Why haven't you signed it already?"

There was something about the look that Marcus gave him that instantly put Baird on the defensive.

"I need time to think," said Baird. "And I don't want to hear whatever you've got to say about it. I've already had Cole, Sam and Anya on my ass about it."

"You can do what you want, Baird," said Marcus, putting it down on the coffee table again.

Baird was genuinely taken aback for a moment; that really wasn't what he'd expected Marcus to say.

"Uh, good," said Baird.

Of course Marcus had more to say on the subject. "But in a year, when your meds have run out and you're alone, lying in some hospital in Anvil Gate because you've had one seizure too many, you might come to regret being discharged. Or you can sign the damn waiver, and start working with us to come up with a plan to help you." His dark blue eyes weren't angry, but they were full of dangerous challenge.

"I told you, it's not that simple," said Baird, angrily.

"Then explain it to me," said Marcus, "because clearly I haven't understood. You're taking a drug that we have a limited supply of but will eventually stop the seizures…"

"We hope," interrupted Baird. "It's not a foregone conclusion."

Marcus ignored him and continued. "And we're on an island full of scientific equipment, what's to stop you analysing it, working out what the ingredients are and making more?"

"How about that I'm not a chemist? I'm a mechanic, and an engineer. I build stuff or blow it up," said Baird. "I wouldn't have the first clue where to start analysing the compounds in the pills I take."

"You're smart and we've got libraries full of books. Time to get reading," said Marcus.

"Yeah, well, ever since I fell off a roof I've had a bit of trouble with that," said Baird.

"Then find someone to read it for you," said Marcus. "This problem doesn't just begin and end with you. We need antibiotics and painkillers. Civilians at Anvil Gate have died because they were diabetic and we ran out of insulin months ago. If we don't fix this problem then it's another step backwards for our civilisation and just one more thing that will kill us."

"Oh come on, Fenix, I'm a selfish bastard that doesn't care about anyone apart from myself, why would you think that would have any effect on my decision?" asked Baird.

Marcus gave a short laugh. "Because the only reason you'd leave Azura and go to Anvil Gate is because you don't want your friends to watch you die. I know you, Corporal Damon S. Baird, you're an asshole, and you pretend not to care about anything, but I also remember you getting demoted in Halvo Bay because you fired the Lightmass Missile against orders, to save my squad. I've watched you single handedly face down an army of polyps to save a submarine and its crew." He paused, looking down. "And I saw how you reacted to Dom's death." His eyes flicked up to meet Baird's.

Baird was lost for words for a moment. He opened his mouth to say something and then shut it again. He couldn't bear to make some stupid remark in response to that, which would have been his usual reaction. He leaned back against the couch cushions and looked up at the ceiling. They all missed Dom, and he'd definitely dealt with their friend's loss badly. Baird's approach to grief was to bottle it up inside and ignore it, but as he'd proven recently, there tended to be leakage. For a long minute there was silence between the two men.

"Anya already tried this," said Baird, rolling his head back to look at Marcus. "She reminded me of all the stuff I've fixed that's made life easier around here. How many Gears I saved by giving them clean drinking water and all that stuff, but this place is crumbling Marcus. All we're doing is slapping a band-aid on a gaping wound. What does it matter if I crumble to dust before the rest of the world?"

"It matters because you can do something about it," said Marcus. His words had anger bubbling beneath them, but he was keeping a lid on it for now. "We're Delta. Six months ago we saved the world. Do you think we should stop now? Just when things might actually be looking up? Is that really what you're saying, Corporal? You said you didn't want to be the king of a scrap pile, well don't be. Stop fixing stuff that's broken and start making things that aren't broken to begin with."

And with that Baird felt a tiny light switch on in the darkness of his thoughts. He remembered this feeling dimly. This was what it felt like to have hope.

"Damn it. Okay, give me the stupid form and find me a pen, at least then I won't have to listen to any more of your stupid speechifying," said Baird.

Marcus handed him the form and then spent a few minutes searching for a pen to sign it with. It took a bit of concentration, but finally Baird put a rather rough approximation of his signature on the form.

"There, are you happy now? You're stuck with me," said Baird.

"I'm ecstatic," said Marcus, dryly.

"You're going to be late for your girlfriend's shindig," said Baird, looking down at the piece of paper that he'd just signed. He still had doubts. All he wanted to do was run away and hide until he could work out all the emotions that were bundling around inside him, but that was hard with a broken leg. He'd just have to do his best to work it out with his squad buzzing around him.

"_We're_ going to be late, and I don't think she's going to mind," said Marcus, as he got the wheelchair ready and then made it clear that he was going to help Baird to hobble over to it. Once again Baird was reminded that when Marcus Fenix wanted you to do something, you usually ended up doing it.

"Yeah, they're going to hold a parade in my honour when they find out I'm staying," said Baird, sarcastically, and giving up on arguing with Marcus about his attendance at the meeting. "By the way, when did I ever say I didn't want to be the king of a scrap pile? Okay, I agree with the sentiment, but I don't remember telling you that."

Baird sat down in the chair and tried to get himself comfortable. At least the painkillers he'd taken earlier were working and the pain in his leg had diminished to a dull throb.

Marcus stopped halfway through putting the footrests down. "How much do you remember of the day of your accident?" asked Marcus.

Baird gave a one armed shrug. "Nothing after breakfast really. Occasionally I get the odd glimpse of something, but honestly there are whole bits of my memory that are just like Marandaian cheese. It's coming back in pieces, but Hayman thinks it's pretty likely I'll never remember the accident. It's a shame really, because the way Cole tells it, I was a fucking hero and I stopped you from plunging to your death. I'm pretty certain that's not what actually happened, and it's definitely not what Anya's accident report said."

Marcus finished with the footrests, and stood looking at Baird for a second.

"Why did you ask that?" asked Baird.

"I took you up onto that roof to get you to talk about why you were working so hard," said Marcus. "We thought that maybe getting you out of the workshop for a bit would help, and perhaps you'd talk to me. Well, you did. That's how I know you were upset about cannibalising parts and being the king of a scrap pile. If I'd decided to have that talk on the ground…"

Baird suddenly realised what Marcus was getting at.

"Shit, Marcus, what happened to me wasn't your fault. Do you know how much sleep I'd had that day? Four hours. I thought it was okay to climb around on a roof after four hours' sleep. I was an idiot and I paid for it."

"But you were my responsibility," said Marcus.

"I don't think you can be responsible for a broken slate cutting through my line. It was just a stupid accident. If I hadn't been so tired I might have noticed it had happened. Lots of things came together to fuck me over," said Baird. "The storm, the broken boards, the puddles, the weak masonry, my lack of sleep, your misfortune for stepping on the wrong board - this stuff occasionally happens. We're not at war anymore, so this is the kind of thing that's going to kill us now. It's not like you led me into combat and gave out the wrong orders. All we did was walk around a roof. We should have been fine, but we weren't."

"You just told me that you don't remember any of that," said Marcus.

"I may be slow, but I can still read when I have to," said Baird. "Anya's report was pretty detailed, and so was your statement. Cole got me a copy."

"Oh," said Marcus, apparently he didn't know how to reply to that. He began to push Baird's chair out of the suite and into the corridor, shutting and locking the door behind them.

"Shit," said Baird, as he made a horrible realisation.

"What's the matter now?" asked Marcus.

"Sam and Anya. Their little scheme worked. We cleared the air," said Baird.

Marcus groaned. "You're right, we did. They're going to love that. Still, I think they've got more important stuff to worry about than rubbing our noses in their success."

"Yeah, maybe. Oh well, on to the next crisis," said Baird. "And I thought peace was going to be dull."


	9. Chapter 9

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Wow, I was bowled over by the reviews for chapter 8. Thanks everyone! This chapter comes with a general warning for some bad language from Baird.

* * *

Marcus rolled Baird into Anya's office about ten minutes after the meeting was due to start. Cole and Anya were waiting there for them. Baird had spent the journey time folding his medical discharge waiver into a paper aeroplane that he threw in Anya's direction as Marcus pushed him through the door. How he'd managed to make it with one arm in a sling was something Marcus hadn't quite worked out. To Anya's credit, she caught it and then smoothed it out, holding it up for everyone else to see.

"So you're staying," said Anya.

"Yeah, you're all going to be sorry you talked me into this," said Baird. "This was the perfect opportunity to ditch me."

Cole's whoop of enthusiastic joy drowned out anything else that Baird was trying to say. It was followed by Cole giving Baird a delighted thump on the back.

"Cole, the one part of me that isn't damaged is my ears," said Baird. "Maybe you could try not to burst my eardrums."

"Sorry, Baird, but you know that this is the best news I've had all day," replied Cole. "What changed your mind?"

"Marcus just pointed out how screwed you lot would be without me," said Baird. "I guess I saw the light."

"We're all thrilled, now, perhaps we can get down to why we're actually here," said Anya. She spread out the map of the island and surrounding seas across the table. "We have a problem. Another one of our boats was attacked. This time we were prepared, but we still took damage and they got away. The attacking boat was flying the flag of Ostri."

"Okay, you're going to need to fill me in on all the details of what's been going on," said Baird. "I've sort of been out of the loop for a while."

Anya gave Baird the important bullet points, including finding Daniel Carmine tied to the front of the boat that Marcus and Alex had taken down. The state that Daniel Carmine had been found in was something which wasn't common knowledge at the moment, so Baird hadn't heard about it. Marcus hadn't been enthusiastic to have it spread around the island that the Ostrians had tortured a Gear, although it would probably get out eventually.

"So we're dealing with some sick fucks," said Baird. "It figures that we couldn't just get the regular kind of nutcases, that would be too much to ask for."

Anya pointed to an area of the map. "This was the UIR nation of Ostri, before it was first added to the COG and then overrun by the Locust, so that puts us between them and Kashkur. So far all the attacks have come from that direction, and Ostri had a decent fleet of its own. It was one of the bigger UIR nations, larger than Gorasnaya but not as big as Pelles."

"But didn't they lose all those ships when the Locust attacked?" asked Marcus.

"Military intelligence certainly thought so," said Anya, "but maybe they were wrong."

"You say that like it's a surprise," said Baird. "Half the ops we went on had intelligence that was faulty, incomplete or just plain wrong."

"That sort of brings me to my next point," said Anya. "If we're going to be fighting these people then we need to know more about them. I need numbers and locations of their units."

"What about asking the guy you rescued?" asked Cole. "He's got to know something about the people who took him."

Marcus shook his head. "Last time I checked in with Hayman, she had him on the good stuff. It's going to be at least a day before he's able to talk to us. He's lucky to be alive."

"So we need to do some scouting," said Baird. "Or I could try to get a picture out of the satellite network."

"Oh no," said Cole. "You're not up to messing about with satellite links."

"But apparently I am up to be dragged to a senior staff meeting," said Baird.

"Yeah, because we wanted your opinion, not to put you to work," said Marcus.

"Hayman said you're not even to go back to light duties until next week," said Anya. "And even then she was pretty strict about working hours. Apparently, head injuries heal better if you're not taxing your brain."

"I was sort of assuming that was more of a guideline. I can't do nothing for another week." Baird looked very unimpressed by this prospect. "Anyway, I wouldn't be taxing my brain. It's easy to fix a satellite network, trust me."

Marcus didn't believe one word. If it was that easy then Baird would have done it in their first week on the island.

"Sorry, baby, but Hayman said you need the rest, and she is one scary lady," said Cole.

"Cowards," replied Baird. "Okay, well in that case you'll have to ask Brennan to take a look at it."

"Well I guess we can try…" said Anya.

Everyone around the table knew that Corporal Brennan didn't have a hope in hell of getting the satellite link to work and produce some images for them. Still, anything was worth a try.

"When's the next Raven due in from Anvil Gate?" asked Marcus.

"Tomorrow afternoon," said Anya. "You think we might be able to use it to scout for us?"

"If Anvil Gate will let us have the fuel," said Marcus. "But we'd have to send them a message and wait for return orders."

"Why can't you just radio and ask them?" asked Baird. "Please tell me that the damn communications array isn't still sat on the ground where it landed after the storm."

"It's not," said Cole. "But it's not up on a roof either."

"Damn it, what the hell have you lot been doing?" asked Baird.

"Our lead engineer fell off a building," said Anya, pointedly. "It put a dent in our schedules."

"You guys so need me," said Baird.

"Isn't that what we've been trying to tell you?" said Marcus, briefly directing a withering look in Baird's direction. The mechanic was looking tired again, and Marcus was actually wondering if bringing him to the meeting had been such a great idea after all.

Marcus leant on the table and looked over the map again. "I could take Zeta-One out on the patrol boat for a better look? We could land on the coast, here, and take a walk inland. I know that area pretty well."

Marcus was pointing at a small spit of land that stuck out into the sea. It was marked "Aspho Point" and was a place that Marcus had hoped he'd never have to see again. Unfortunately you could never foresee where life was going to ask you to go.

"Shit, Marcus," said Cole. "Maybe you should stay home. Let the rest of us have a go at these assholes."

"We don't even know if this map is accurate anymore," said Anya. "There are sunken cities all along the coast and the Lambent caused more seismic activity."

"How many other Gears do we have who've actually been to Ostri?" asked Marcus. "If anyone's going, then it has to be me."

Anya just looked at Marcus for a moment, and gave a shake of her blonde head. He loved Anya, and he knew that she felt the same way, but that was just complicating the decision for her. She had no problem with sending him out on routine patrols, but this wouldn't be a routine patrol. Her mother had died at Aspho Fields. Anya had been a communications officer at the time and had heard her die. It was a place that had bad memories for both of them.

"Look, even a scouting mission would take a couple of days to set up, let's wait and see if Daniel Carmine can give us anything," said Anya. "In the mean time I'll send the message to Hoffman about the Raven. We'll keep sending out patrol boats with the fishing fleet and maybe they'll decide we're too much of a hard target."

"Anya…" began Marcus.

"That's my decision, Sergeant," she replied, making it very clear that she was pulling rank. "What else have we got to talk about?"

Marcus knew when to give up. Anya wasn't a push over and he could always try again to persuade her when it was just the two of them. They moved on to discuss other things, and when they turned round to ask Baird's opinion on something mechanical, they found that he'd fallen asleep in his wheelchair.

"I shouldn't have brought him," said Marcus, voicing his earlier thoughts.

"Nah, it was good for him," said Cole. "Shows him that the world's still turning."

"Do we have much more to talk about?" asked Marcus. "I should take him back to his quarters."

"There's one last thing," said Anya. "Hoffman's planning to pay us a visit, probably next week. He said he had some things that he wanted to discuss with us and he wanted our input."

"I'd have thought that he'd have enough on his plate at Anvegad," said Marcus.

"It's got to be important, otherwise he wouldn't be making the trip," said Anya.

"Maybe Boomer Lady finally got him to retire," said Cole, using his nickname for Hoffman's partner, Sergeant Bernie Mataki.

"I can't see Bernie getting behind any retirement plan," said Marcus.

"We'll find out soon enough," said Anya. "Go on, get Baird back to his quarters. I need to check in with Carmine and see how his brother's doing."

"Yes, Ma'am," replied Marcus and carefully steered the sleeping Baird out of Anya's office.

* * *

Baird managed to get through the rest of the day and an entire night without another seizure. If this continued then he might actually start believing that Hayman's medication was doing something. Delta were still providing an ongoing babysitting service, with Sam taking the night shift again and Cole sleeping on his couch. Marcus had gone home to dinner with Anya at some point during the previous evening, but Baird had been asleep by then. He was wondering how long they were planning to keep this up, because if he didn't get some time alone soon he was going to go postal. He was someone who liked his own company best, and the constant surveillance was beginning to grate on his nerves. Hayman had said that he'd need to be seizure free for 72 hours before he could be on his own, so he was crossing his fingers that his brain would decide to behave on the new medication dosage.

Marcus reappeared the next morning with the blueprints for the buildings on the island of Azura.

"What's this?" asked Baird. He was sat on his couch, with both legs stretched out across the cushions, contemplating the toast that Cole had dropped on a plate in front of him for breakfast. His stomach was still rebelling at the thought of proper food and he'd managed about half a slice before giving up. "I thought I was banned from actually doing anything useful until next week."

Marcus shrugged and put the plans down on Baird's coffee table. "Yeah, but you tend to create trouble when you're bored. So, here are the plans of all the buildings on Azura. So far all we've done is open up the accommodation blocks, the hotel and the admin building. There are about a hundred labs, libraries, workshops and other areas that we need to explore but haven't had time to. You can work out the priorities for us. There's no rush, take it slow and rest when you need to."

"I'm going to be reading blueprints, Marcus, not running a marathon," replied Baird.

"At the moment, this might as well be you running a marathon," said Marcus.

"Yeah, kick me when I'd down, Fenix," said Baird. "Okay, at least it's useful, and better than another round of cards with that cheating harpy, Byrne."

"She wasn't cheating," Cole chipped in. "You're just a sore loser."

"Pass the Lady isn't a proper game anyway," said Baird.

"Yeah, but you know we won't play anything serious with you," said Cole. "You count cards."

"I never understood why people see that as cheating," said Baird.

"Because most people need a calculator to do what you do in your head," said Marcus. He handed Baird a radio. "Yours got broken in the fall. For now, it's just for emergencies. No listening in to the squad frequency until you're cleared for duty."

Baird looked at the small metal object in his hand. Okay, it was just a radio, but it felt more like a "welcome back to the squad" from his sergeant. "Thanks."

Cole came over and felt his forehead. "You're not coming down with something are you? I swear I just heard you say thanks."

Baird shoved off Cole's hand with playful push. "Hey, you bitch when I don't say it and make jokes when I do. How about some positive reinforcement?"

"How about I take you to your appointment with Hayman?" said Cole.

Baird sighed. "Sure, it's the highlight of my day. To be fair, it doesn't have much to compete with at the moment."

Marcus' radio clicked at him and he answered it.

"Fenix, go ahead Control," said Marcus.

Baird couldn't hear the other half of the conversation, and although it was tempting to put his radio in his ear, he wasn't about to do exactly what Marcus had just told him not to. At least, not in front of his squad leader. He'd wait until Marcus wasn't around before he started listening in to the radio traffic around the island.

"Okay, we were just about to head in that direction anyway for Baird's appointment with Hayman," said Marcus. "We'll be with you in twenty."

"What's going on?" asked Baird.

"Daniel Carmine's awake and wants to talk to us," said Marcus.

"Awesome, let's go ask the traumatised torture survivor to relive his experiences," said Baird.

"Yeah," said Marcus. "Well Anya's not budging on letting me take Zeta out for a scouting mission so he's our only option for information."

"You know Clay hasn't left his side since he got here," said Cole. "He's not going to like this."

Baird wasn't at all surprised to find that Cole was thinking about how Daniel Carmine's brother might take this. He tended to worry about that kind of stuff.

"Then he can take a walk," said Marcus. "Daniel asked to talk to whoever was in charge here. Anya wants us there too."

Baird raised an eyebrow, and grabbed his crutch. This was definitely going to be interesting even if it ended badly. He got himself up, without any help from his overly solicitous squad mates, and over to the waiting wheelchair. The familiar trip up to the Medical Centre took about the twenty minutes that Marcus had indicated. Baird was supposed to be meeting Doctor Hayman for another check on his seizure medication and leg frame, but since she was supervising their Q and A with Daniel Carmine, he didn't think she'd be available for his chat with her.

Baird knew that a lot of the Gears on Azura didn't like Hayman. Given that she'd personally saved his life three times, the third less than a month ago, he actually had a lot of respect for her. She was the highest ranking medical professional left in the COG and probably should have stayed at Anvil Gate with Hoffman, but had preferred to make the journey to Azura to help the wounded Gears there. After the final fight for the island there had been a lot of casualties, and she'd saved a lot of lives. However she was sarcastic, old and said what she thought. Actually, Baird reflected, she was a lot like him, perhaps that was why he didn't dislike her as much as some of the others.

They entered the room where Daniel was being cared for and Baird really wished he'd decided to give this one a miss. It was too soon after his accident to be reminded of what it was like to be injured and in hospital. He remembered the pain, lack of privacy, indignity and loneliness of it all, and had no wish to be immersed in it again so soon. But if he wanted to hear what Daniel had to say then he couldn't just wait outside until it was all done. He needed to be there to pick up the nuances of every word.

Baird was usually the squad intelligence gatherer. It was no coincidence that Marcus had brought him along, because he was well aware of Baird's knack of analysing the enemy and working out useful things about them. He'd spent much of his time during the Locust War gathering intelligence on their enemy and feeding it back to HQ. Analysing a human enemy wasn't going to be that different.

Daniel Carmine was swathed in bandages and propped up in bed with an IV line running into his arm and an oxygen line running under his nose. His red hair was the same bright copper colour that Clay had, but his features were narrower and less heavy set. He probably had been lightly muscled rather than with the massive biceps that his brother carried, but it was difficult to know for sure since the guy had obviously been starving. He'd also definitely spent too much time out in the sun recently and the skin that wasn't bandaged was slathered in a white cream of some kind.

"Lieutenant Daniel Carmine, 63rd Raven Squadron," was what Baird caught as he came into the room. "KR – Seven Niner was mine, but we were shot down after Hollow Storm. I heard about Jacinto going under the waves, so my Crew Chief and I started walking. We were aiming for Port Farrall but the COG had gone by the time we made it there. Some Stranded said everyone had gone to Vectes, but we didn't have a boat, so we started looking for one. Basically, long story short, further along the coast we did find a boat, but we got caught in a storm and blown way off course. We ended up in Ostri. That turned out not to be very good for our health."

He had to stop there and cough for a while. Clay handed him a glass of water, which he drank from gratefully with painful looking cracked lips. Anya stood listening studiously, while Hayman looked on critically, occasionally taking note of her patient's monitors. Daniel's breathing definitely still had a rattle to it, suggesting that he hadn't totally got over the pneumonia that he'd had starting when Marcus had brought him in.

"You don't need to do this now, Dan," said Clay. "They can come back another day."

"I'm okay, Clay, so you can stop the big brother act," replied Daniel.

"Stubborn ass," said Clay.

"Jerk face," replied Daniel.

"Ah, brotherly love at its best," said Baird. "Makes me glad I was an only child."

"Are you supposed to be in here?" asked Daniel, looking at Baird's wheelchair in a slightly baffled way.

"Oh don't mind me, I'm just an escaped mental patient from two doors down," said Baird.

"Shut up, Baird," said Marcus, gruffly. Some things never changed.

Anya shot both of them a look which clearly read "behave" and then introduced them. "These are the other members of Delta Squad. Sergeant Marcus Fenix, Private Augustus Cole, and the annoying one in the wheelchair is Corporal Damon Baird."

"I read intelligence reports that you wrote," said Daniel, sounding just slightly surprised.

"Yeah, clearly that helped you no end," said Baird.

"Taught me the difference between a Kantus and Theron Guard," said Daniel. "That was definitely handy when we were shot down west of Ilima."

"Guys, I'm really not sure Daniel's up to this right now," said Clay.

"I said I'm fine," replied Daniel.

"Okay, what happened when you got to Ostri?" asked Marcus, getting the conversation back on track.

"We were taken in by some Stranded. Our boat was holed and we'd barely made it to shore, so we weren't going anywhere in that. The Stranded group were actually a decent lot, some of them even spoke Tyran. They tended to our wounds and fed us. We stayed with them for a few weeks, until some bad-asses calling themselves the Soldiers of the Nation of Ostri turned up. They rounded up everyone in the camp at gun point. I thought we were all dead, but they marched everyone further inland to some old Silver Age fortress. Fort Kirnheim. It turns out the Ostri government had a secret bunker there. They sealed themselves in until they thought the war was over, then started their plan to rebuild. Apparently part of that plan was to enslave the local populace and make them repair the fort and everything else." Daniel wheezed a bit as he finished speaking.

"So they took you prisoner and forced you to work for them," said Anya.

"Yeah, I was unlucky enough to be shipped off to the quarry where they were cutting stone. I didn't see my Crew Chief after that, we were separated and I have no idea what happened to him. Conditions for us slaves weren't good. I lost track of time, so I don't know how long I was there for, but it became pretty clear that if I didn't do something then we were all going to die there. I persuaded enough people that the gamble was worth a shot and we mounted a massed escape." Daniel paused here, seemingly having a little trouble in finding the words to continue, or perhaps just struggling with the memory. Baird could understand that, given the situation that he was describing.

He gave a small cough. "We got as far as the coast before they caught us. I think a few people might have managed to get away in the confusion, but probably only a handful. The rest of them, they stood them all in a line and shot every fifth person. I was the ring leader, so they decided to make an example out of me. A bullet to the head was apparently too quick and easy, and I guess you know from how you found me what happened next."

There was an unspoken request not to have to give the details. Daniel might protest that he was fine, but the bandages and the way his hands trembled said differently. Torture did strange things to a person's head, and none of it was good. Clay had his hand firmly wrapped around his brother's, and it didn't look like he was going to be letting go anytime soon. Baird briefly wondered what it would be like to have family that cared about you like that. His own parents had never seemed that interested in their child, and he'd often wondered if his childhood would have been happier if he'd had a sibling. Probably they'd just have been miserable together.

"Okay, that's enough for today," said Hayman. "Lieutenant Carmine needs rest, and I have an appointment with Corporal Baird."

Delta squad shuffled out of the room with Cole pushing Baird's chair. They waited until they got further down the hall, out of earshot of the Carmine brothers, before they discussed what they'd heard.

"So, we've got a bunch of evil sons of bitches who've decided to go back to medieval times," said Baird.

"Yeah, and they're the ones who've been attacking our boats," said Marcus.

"We're going to have to ask Lieutenant Carmine for more information on the size and positions of their forces," said Anya.

"Carmine's not going to be happy about that," said Cole. "Clay I mean. Having two of them around is going to get mighty confusing."

"Any insights, Baird?" asked Marcus.

Baird gave a one armed shrug. "That wasn't much to go on. Basically they're using all the standard evil tyrant tactics. Kill a few people and leave the rest alive to tell people about how badass you are. It's a great way to keep your slaves in line. The Silver Age fortress is a smart move too. Big stone walls aren't much use when you're dealing with grubs, but for keeping other humans out they're great, especially when we don't have the numbers or firepower for a siege. Hell, a dozen Ravens could probably take that place, but we don't have a dozen Ravens to send after them. It's all the same reasons that Hoffman picked Anvil Gate to hole up in."

Anya frowned. "I'm sure we've got some maps of Ostri in Operations. Now that we know where they're based, I might be able to find one of Fort Kirnheim."

"Good idea," said Marcus.

"Hold your horses people," said Cole. "What are you actually thinking about doing here? Like Baird said, we don't have nearly enough firepower to go up against a fort and we're having enough trouble just living from day to day."

"I know that Cole," said Marcus, tersely. "But I don't like the idea of someone enslaving civilians and then killing them."

"Cole's right though," said Anya. "We do need more intelligence on them, but that's just to give us an idea of what they might send in our direction. I can't see us getting enough of a force together to attack them, and we couldn't afford the lost man hours anyway."

Marcus' body language very clearly said what he thought of that. The restless shake of the head and the slight turn away from the group made it obvious that he wasn't at all happy. Marcus didn't like being in a position where he couldn't do anything.

"Hoffman will be here next week," said Anya. "Maybe he'll have some more ideas on how to deal with this."

Cole was nodding, although Marcus didn't look convinced.

"Corporal Baird," said Doctor Hayman, from further along the corridor. "I don't have all day, so perhaps you'd like to keep your appointment now."

Baird groaned, but not so loudly that Hayman could hear.

"Great conversation, guys, learned lots, unfortunately I'm needed elsewhere," said Baird. He looked up at Cole. "If you would be so kind as to move my ass down the hall, we can get this show on the road."

"You need to work on your idea of manners, baby," said Cole, but began to wheel Baird towards Hayman. He heard Anya and Marcus tell them that they were heading back to Ops, before he concentrated on what the doctor was saying as they neared the treatment room.

"We're going to take a look at the leg frame today," said Hayman. "It's probably going to require adjusting."

"Oh good," said Baird, with as much sarcasm as he could manage. "I've been looking forwards to this."

Given how stupidly painful his leg was when he left it alone and dosed himself up on painkillers, adjusting the frame to pull the bone round into better alignment was going to be agony. The break in his leg had been a bad one and it wasn't just going to knit together easily on its own. The previous time Hayman had done this Baird was drugged up on nice painkillers, so he was quietly dreading doing it without. Cole gave his good shoulder a squeeze.

"Right here with you, baby," said Cole, as if he'd read his mind.

It struck Baird that for all his complaining, and despite his miserable childhood, he did have a family like Carmine and his brother. So what if it wasn't by blood.

* * *

Cole pretty much would have given anything not to have to put Baird through the torture of tightening and adjusting the frame around his leg. His friend had lost the little colour his skin had by the time Hayman had finished the process. Normally the doctor would have given her patient drugs to blunt the pain, but Baird's epilepsy medication complicated things. The only thing strong enough that Hayman had available was the one thing Baird wouldn't take – morphen. His history with that particular drug wasn't a happy one, and he refused point blank to let Hayman give him any of it.

Baird was stoic and quietly endured everything that was done to his leg with only small groans and occasional swear words to indicate the absolutely excruciating pain that he was probably in. The procedure wiped him out, leaving him shivering, tired and jumpy. He answered questions in single syllables, and was clearly glad when Cole took him home to his quarters and tucked him up on the couch with extra blankets. The surprising thing was that Baird let him, and didn't even protest when he just lifted him out of the wheelchair and onto the couch. He willingly downed more pain pills without any protest and eventually fell asleep, which Cole reckoned was the best thing he could do at the moment. The blueprints that Marcus had dropped off that morning remained untouched for now.

Sam arrived for the afternoon shift, with a slim, square wooden box under her arm, and Cole gave her the rundown of what she needed to know. She looked sympathetic when she heard about the leg frame adjustment.

"Poor guy, no wonder he's out of it," said Sam. "How often is this going to have to be done?"

"Hayman said it depends how well it heals," replied Cole. "At the moment she's thinking once a week until it comes off."

"Well that sucks," said Sam. "And he really won't take the morphen?"

"Not a chance," said Cole. "Although if it's always this painful, then he might just relent. What's in the box?"

"Chess," said Sam. "It turns out there's a board game cupboard in the lounge outside the mess hall. I bet Baird plays, even if he hasn't recently. I thought he could teach me."

Cole tried to remember if he'd ever seen Baird play chess, but came up with a blank. He shrugged. "Well, it's worth a try. He wasn't exactly enthusiastic about more cards and he's not supposed to be even thinking about work until next week. Marcus sort of broke the rules by bringing him those blueprints."

"I won't tell Hayman if you don't," said Sam. "Go on, I've got this."

Cole collected his stuff and left Baird's quarters. Baird and Sam could do with more time together. Cole could see that something in that relationship had shifted, although he didn't know if it was just friendship or something more yet. He hoped that Baird would be able to cope if it did turn out to be something more.

Baird was a complicated individual. In Cole's opinion, his childhood was mostly to blame for his rather difficult personality, because from the little that Baird had told him, no one had ever told Baird that he was loved. He had grown up never believing that he was worth anything and that if you let people get close then they'd just hurt you. He'd protected himself by developing his smart mouth, which had successfully driven most people away from him. He had always been surprised by Cole's friendship and still seemed to be some days. He just didn't see why anyone would care for him without wanting something in return.

Of course, Baird still had the same amount of emotion as any other human being, he just poured his into stuff that couldn't expect anything of him. He loved working with machines because they didn't care who he was or where he came from. He didn't want anyone's pity and, until recently, the problems of the world just seemed to bounce off him. He was the indestructible Damon Baird, genius extraordinaire, a guy who could whip you up a bomb from an alarm clock and the contents of a kitchen cupboard, whilst making wisecracks at your expense. Hence Baird was usually seen as an annoying asshole who was incredibly good with machines and rubbish with people.

But despite what Baird let the world see, he still wanted to be liked and loved like anyone else, but he had no idea how to go about either giving or receiving such things. Baird had worked out at some point that if you fixed stuff then people were grateful and you were useful to them. He had said it often enough himself, he believed that he was only wanted for his ability to fix machines. No one wanted Baird for himself. Cole had no idea how he'd react if he discovered that Sam might think differently, and he doubted that she was the type for one night stands either.

Now, if Cole could just find himself a lady too then everything would be right with the world. One problem at a time, he thought, one problem at a time.

The weather was good again, meaning that Cole had a clear view of the afternoon Raven coming in to land. Something wasn't quite right about the way that the helicopter was turning in towards the island, and its altitude wasn't as consistent as he'd have expected. He tuned in to the radio traffic and recognised the voice of Major Gill Gettner in KR Eight-Zero.

"Azura Control, this is KR Eight-Zero. Be advised that we are having engine difficulties," said Gettner.

"KR Eight-Zero, this is Azura Control. Can you make it to the landing pad or are we looking at ditching in the ocean?"

"I'm going to do my damndest to put us down on the pad, Azura Control, but I'd appreciate it if you could have a boat standing by in case that doesn't happen," replied Gettner.

"Roger that, I am scrambling rescue crews as we speak," said the Operator.

Cole could see one of the boat crews and Gears running to get the rescue boat launched as the Operator spoke. He began heading down towards the landing pad because, if the Raven was about to have a hard landing, then they might need people on hand to put out fires. He watched for a moment as the boat was launched and the helicopter got closer, continuing down the hill at a jog. Gettner maintained a running commentary of their speed and position. She was a seasoned combat pilot and this wasn't going to be her first emergency landing.

"Shit, I just lost the engine, we're coming down on autorotate. I hope we've got enough glide left in us," said Gettner.

Jensen and Thompson, two of Azura's medics, were pulling up nearby and getting ready in case this all went badly wrong. Cole was with them a few moments later, and all eyes were on the incoming Raven. Gettner was clearly struggling with the aircraft, but she dipped the tail down and pulled the nose up, getting the craft into a hover that she could land from. Then it all seemed to go wrong and the helicopter dropped out of the air like a stone, landing hard on the tarmac. Cole was pretty sure that any other pilot would have wiped out, but Gettner was better than that. Her aircraft was smoking and one of the wheels of the landing gear had buckled, but she'd got it down in one piece.

He could hear her swearing loudly over the radio, and then in person as he pulled open the cockpit door. They needed everyone off the Raven as quickly as possible. The chances that it would burst into flames at this point were high, and they didn't need their pilots toasted. Gettner's Crew Chief, Barber, was being pulled out on the other side by one of the other Gears. Fire extinguishers were being deployed and the medics were moving in to check over the helicopter's occupants.

"Are you okay?" asked Cole, as he helped Gettner over to sit down on a stretcher.

She was bleeding from a cut on her head and limping slightly. Barber seemed to be in a similar condition, and was holding a hand to gash on his left shoulder.

"I am now," said Gettner. "It was a bit tense there for a moment. Damn it, Baird is going to kill me when he sees this."

"Baird's still on sick leave at the moment," said Cole, "so you might get a rain check on that."

"Still?" asked Gettner. "How's he doing?"

"That's a kind of complicated question," said Cole. "I'll save the details for when you haven't just crashed your bird."

"That wasn't a crash," said Barber, "that was a hard landing. There's a difference. Believe me, there's a big difference."

"What he said," added Gettner.

The medics were trying to get her to lie down on a stretcher so that they could look at her head and leg better, but Gettner wasn't cooperating. "I'm fine. It's just a scratch."

"It needs stitches," said Jensen. "We should get you both back to the Med Centre."

Gettner sighed. "Come on then, let's get this over with." She gave up and let the medics do what they needed to before bundling both her and Barber into the ATV for transfer to the Medical Centre.

The Gears had finished putting out the small fire that had started on the Raven, and the aircraft looked rather miserable. Cole hit his com button.

"Cole to Control, could you let Corporal Brennan know that we've got a chopper down on the landing pad that needs her urgent attention," he said.

"Will do, Cole," said the operator. "What's the word on the crew?"

"Looks like minor injuries only. They're on their way to the Med Centre for treatment," said Cole.

"Roger that, sounds like it could have been much worse," said the Operator.

"Yeah, the Raven's down in mostly one piece too, but we'll need a crew to move it off the pad. I can get my guys and girls down here to do it, as long as you don't mind us leaving the Maelstrom Tower for another day," said Cole.

"Lieutenant Stroud has no objections," said the Operator. "If you could hang around and see if Corporal Brennan needs a hand then she would also be appreciative."

"Yeah, not a problem," said Cole. "Tell my crew to hustle in my direction."

"Will do, Control out."

Cole began to examine the aircraft further. With a missing wheel it was going to be a pain to get moving, but hopefully they had enough man power. Corporal Brennan and Private Quayle arrived a few minutes later and Corporal Brennan set about inspecting the damage to the Raven. To Cole she looked tired and worn, and alarm bells began to ring in the back of Cole's mind.

"It looks like the fire did more damage than the original problem," said Brennan, with a sigh. She picked up a tool and promptly dropped it again. Cole knew Brennan well enough to know that she wasn't clumsy and Baird hadn't picked her for her winning personality, she was a good mechanic.

"When did you last get any sleep?" asked Cole.

Brennan shrugged. "I slept last night."

"For how long?"

"I'm not sure I appreciate the personal questions, Private," said Brennan.

"Corporal, you need to get proper rest to do your job. I'm just concerned," said Cole.

"And I'm busy," snapped Brennan. She paused a moment and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Cole. It's just… we miss the boss. Everything's harder without him and we're all overworked and tired. How's he doing?"

"Mending slowly," said Cole. "Hopefully he'll be back to light duties next week, if Hayman clears him."

Brennan nodded. "Finally, some good news. We could really use his help. Give him our best." She turned back to the damaged Raven. "Right, let's get this Raven shifted off the pad."

Cole's crew and the engineers shifted the Raven off the pad and on to the tarmac next door. It could be parked there safely while the mechanics attempted to fix it.

When that task was completed, Cole made the trip to Anya's office. He definitely needed to talk to her, because Baird couldn't go back to a workshop where his team were overworked and stressed out. Hayman had talked about stress levels and how stress could trigger seizures even when epilepsy was otherwise usually under control. But mostly Cole didn't want to see Brennan make a deadly mistake because she was tired and overworked. Baird had admitted to Marcus that his lack of sleep had contributed to his own accident, and Cole didn't want history to repeat itself. The new inhabitants of Azura needed to learn from their mistakes, not keep repeating them.

* * *

Chess with Baird was an interesting pastime, as it turned out. Whilst he'd been dismissive of the idea to begin with when he'd awoken, ("it's too easy", "I had this game mastered by the time I was ten",) when he realised that she wanted him to teach her how to play, he seemed more enthusiastic.

Baird had been slow to awaken, but had eventually pushed himself into a sitting position with his legs stretched out along the couch, with the frame cushioned on pillows. He had reluctantly eaten a small amount for lunch, picking at the cheese and ham sandwich that Sam made him. His leg was definitely still bothering him, so Sam had decided that a distraction would probably help. He had looked longingly at the bottle of painkillers before checking the time and realising that he wasn't allowed to take any more for a while, so had to put up with the discomfort a bit longer. Given that Baird was usually anti pain meds, she concluded that he was probably in a fair amount of pain.

She pulled up a chair to the coffee table and set up the board. She made sure that it was in easy reach for Baird so that he didn't end up putting weight on his leg frame accidentally. That meant that she was sitting quite close to him and the board, but at a ninety degree angle. The pieces were as ornate as everything else on the island and looked like they were made of two different types of semi-precious stones. One side was carved from a milky, crystalline white, and the other was a dark, translucent blue. They had small pieces of gold metal inlaid in them for the knight's eyes and other detailing on the rest of the pieces.

"Wow, this chess set is probably worth more than my COG back pay," said Baird, fingering the pieces. "And the COG owes me a lot of back pay."

"You and everyone else in this army, but good luck with collecting it. Why haven't I ever seen you play before?" asked Sam. "There was a chess set on the Sovereign and Michaelson had a league going."

"First of all, Navy chess is not real chess, and secondly unless there was a chess champion on board Sovereign that I didn't know about, none of them could have given me a decent game," said Baird. "Thirdly, I had Jack to fix so I didn't have much time for board games. Fourthly, if I'd had time for board games, I'd have played Go."

"What's that?"

"It's a strategy game for two players, who place white or black stones on a grid. You capture as much territory on the board as possible to win," said Baird.

"What's so great about Go?"

"Back when we still had computers on every desk, we could program them to play chess, and it wasn't that hard to create a program that could beat even the Grand Masters. We never managed to make a program that could beat even a low level Go player. It's a simpler game in many ways, but that means that there are hundreds of possible moves every turn. The processing power that we'd need to go through all the permutations, is huge," said Baird, gesturing with his unbroken arm. "You can understand how to play the game in minutes, but understanding the tactics and strategy of how to play well can take a lifetime. I used to play at La Croix, with Professor Elliot, while we were waiting for code to compile. Never managed to beat him."

Sam smiled. She hadn't seen Baird get animated about something for a while. This was definitely a good thing and she liked how it looked on him.

"I wish I'd found a Go set now," said Sam.

"Chess will do for the moment," said Baird. "So you know how all the pieces move?"

Sam nodded.

"Okay, let's play then and I'll give you pointers as we go," said Baird.

Sam was actually quite surprised by how things went after that. Baird led Sam through how to move her pieces, getting her to make suggestions and then explaining what was good and bad about where she wanted to play. He didn't call her moves idiotic or make her feel stupid. It took them about an hour to get through the game and Baird sort of engineered Sam into the win.

"Want to try it on your own now?" asked Baird.

"I can give it a go, but I doubt I'll do as well if you're not helping me," said Sam.

Baird shrugged. "I'm not exactly on the top of my game." Then he smirked in a much more characteristic way. "I'll go easy on you, Byrne."

Sam gave him a tap on the shoulder for that, but they set up the board and started a second game. Sam had paid attention to what Baird had said about tactics so it wasn't a total walkover, but Baird still won in a relatively short amount of time.

"If that was going easy on me then I don't want to see what you'd normally do," said Sam.

"You just need more practise, and then you'd probably be able to give me a run for my money," replied Baird. He winced as he shifted in his seat, something which he'd been doing more frequently as the game progressed. From recent past experience she was well aware that this meant his leg was hurting him more.

"This has been fun, but I should really take a look at those blueprints for Marcus," added Baird.

Sam checked the clock. "You should take your painkillers first," she said. "I'll get you some water."

Baird lent his head back against the sofa cushions. "Yeah, painkillers. Not really living up to their name at the moment, but I guess something is better than nothing."

She passed him the bottle of painkillers and the glass of water. Their hands briefly touched as she gave him the pill bottle, and she wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but he seemed to linger a second longer than was necessary. His blue eyes flickered upwards and met her brown ones, confirming her feeling that something had just happened. The moment disappeared as Baird, shifted a little, let out a clearly involuntary hiss of pain, and nearly dropped the bottle of pills.

"Damn it," seethed Baird, with eyes shut. "Fucking Hayman and her fucking torture device."

Sam reclaimed the pill bottle from Baird's lax fingers. She turned his hand palm up and shook out two pills on to it. He downed them and took the water that she offered him without a word. The pills would take a while to work and the pain was clearly extreme. His eyes were still shut and he had sort of curled himself downwards, hunching his shoulders and holding himself taut.

Sam did the only thing that she could think of. She moved around behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. Baird actually stiffened even more as he felt Sam's hands on his shoulders, and she wondered if this was going to work.

"Hey, it's okay, relax," she said. "Just let me try something. Slow deep breaths."

She began to rub his muscles gently through the thin t-shirt that he wearing. His shoulders were tense and the muscles were knotted. She worked at them with her fingers until they began to loosen.

"Sam…" began Baird.

"Don't say anything, just let me do this," said Sam.

Finally he began to relax, leaning against the back of the sofa on his left side. She continued until she'd worked out all the knots and his breathing was slow and even. The pain pills were probably beginning to kick in and take the worst edge off.

"Where did you learn to do that?" asked Baird, sounding tired again.

"Oh, you know, here and there. It's not that hard," she replied, sitting down in her seat again. The chess pieces and board were still out on the table, so she began to tidy them away.

"You're being nice again," said Baird.

"There's nothing wrong with being nice," said Sam. "I'm just doing what any human being would do, Baird."

"I don't think Cole would give me a shoulder rub," replied Baird. "Marcus definitely wouldn't."

"Their loss," said Sam. "It made you feel better, didn't it?"

Baird nodded. "Yeah, it was good. Uh, thanks."

"Then it did what it was supposed to do," said Sam, with a slight smile.

Baird had taken on a sort of nervous look, and Sam had no doubt that if he could have walked off somewhere at this point then he would have done so. Baird was terrible at social interaction, and apparently really awful when it came to any kind of physical contact with a woman, even the innocent variety. Sam ignored him for a few seconds and finished packing the chess pieces away, closing the wooden box.

The problem was that she was actually beginning to think that she wanted him to show some interest in her, but she was also wondering if she was totally mad at the same time. This was Damon Baird, prize arsehole and possibly one of the most annoying people alive. Was she really about to bury the hatchet and consider him as boyfriend material? A friend, definitely, but she didn't know why she was suddenly looking at him differently. Her timing wasn't great either. If she tried to start something now then he'd be bound to see it as her feeling sorry for him, even if that had nothing to do with it.

But was she so sure that some of these feelings weren't pity? She still wondered if that was why she'd found Dom so attractive. Poor broken Dom, with his dead wife and children, all cut up inside and mourning his Maria. How could she ever have thought that he'd be interested in her? She knew that Dom had lots of good qualities. He was a good man and a good soldier, loyal to the end. He was never going to look at her in the same way that he'd looked at his wife though, and over the last few months she'd worked that out. She'd never stood a chance with Dominic Santiago, because no one could ever live up to his Maria. She sighed and shook her head.

"What's the matter?" asked Baird. "How did I manage to piss you off this time?"

Sam glanced over, realising that he was looking at her and she'd been off in her own thoughts.

"You didn't, it's okay. I was just thinking," said Sam. "Do you want anything? I could make you another sandwich or a hot drink?"

Baird shook his head and immediately seemed to regret it as he put an arm out to steady himself.

"Hey, are you okay? Do I need to call Hayman?" she asked, suddenly concerned. She sifted closer to him so that she was kneeling beside the couch and supporting him on his nearest side, with a hand on his good arm.

"No," said Baird, a little sharply, and then toned it down. His eyes were shut again. "No, it's just a dizzy spell. It's a side effect of the head injury. Sometimes if I turn too fast or shake my head, I lose my sense of balance. It's getting better, so hopefully it's not here to stay."

"Okay, as long as you're not going keel over on me," said Sam.

"I think I'm okay," said Baird, leaning back into the cushions. "I never thought I'd be glad for Chairman Prescott squandering all our taxes on silk cushions and feather pillows, but at least they're comfortable. Right, pass me some of those blueprints."

"Are you sure you're up to this?" she asked.

"Yeah, it'll be fine. What is it with everyone suddenly thinking that I'm going to die from reading?"

"Oh, I don't know, Baird, maybe it has something to do with the head injury and the broken bones. And none of us really want to be shouted at by Doc Hayman," she added with some slight exasperation. "What are you looking for on these blueprints anyway?" She handed the top set to Baird, glancing at them as she did so.

"Anything that looks interesting," said Baird, "and I bet there's a lot of "interesting" on this island."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "I'll give you a hand," she said.

The two of them spent the next few hours going through blueprints. Sam helped Baird with some of the longer bits of text that were on the plans, but generally he managed pretty well to get the general idea of what each building had been intended for. They continued in companionable collaboration until Baird fell asleep with the latest set of plans draped over his legs. Sam gently removed the papers and replaced them on the coffee table. There were still a lot to go through but they'd made a good start. Baird had even seemed happy for a moment there.

Then Sam realised that she'd actually quite enjoyed their time together too. When Marcus arrived to take over, she was kind of sad for her shift to come to an end. She never would have believed that she'd have ever felt that way about time spent with Damon Baird. She still couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.


	10. Chapter 10

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Thank you reviewers, readers and followers for your continuing interest in this story. Your reviews always make my day. Again, small warning that there is a lot of swearing in this chapter. People are stressed.

* * *

Marcus pushed Baird's wheelchair into the lobby of one of the larger unexplored blocks of laboratories. The ground was littered with plaster and other rubble from the ceiling, and the air was thick with dust that glimmered in the shafts of sunlight. Marcus was wearing his armour and had his Lancer slung over his back. Baird was still wearing only a t-shirt and shorts, but since Bloom had turned into Bounty and the weather was even warmer than before, his attire was entirely appropriate. He couldn't get his armour on over his broken arm easily anyway, and he didn't think that they'd come across anything here that would attack them. He'd managed to retrieve his favourite pair of goggles, which Cole had kept safe for him, and was wearing them perched on his blond hair. He still felt naked without his plates and guns, but even he recognised how stupid an epileptic carrying a firearm would be.

Marcus hadn't been completely happy about the trip, but when had Baird ever cared about Marcus's happiness? It wasn't like Marcus was the one stuck in his room with nothing to do but stare at the peeling paint on the walls.

"If Hayman finds out about this then she just might kill the both of us," said Marcus.

"Yeah, and if I'd been stuck in my quarters much longer I just might have killed _myself_. Besides, a little dirt never hurt anyone," replied Baird, looking around at the large entrance hallway.

Cole entered behind them, also in armour and with his Lancer in its holster for now.

"Didn't I hear Hayman say something about resting and giving that brain of yours some time off," said Cole.

"Yeah, and I am, just not right this moment," said Baird. "Anyway, this doesn't even count as light duty, all I'm doing is sitting here while you push me places. It's not like you're letting me do much else."

Baird had watched most of a week go by on Azura, during which he had managed to hobble from his bed to the couch in his quarters once a day, and occasionally hobbled to his wheelchair and got taken somewhere by Cole, Marcus or Sam. He was mostly watching life go by on the island, rather than actually participating in it, and after ten days of it, he was fed up. He listened in to the Azura radio traffic and wished that time would pass more quickly. Except when he took his medication, and then he wished it would pass slowly so that his pills wouldn't run out as quickly.

Hayman had him keeping a record of his seizures so that she could track any abnormal brain activity, but that had bored him pretty quickly so he'd started to make it more interesting. It had turned into a note form diary. His handwriting was horrible though, and it was sort of hard work, so it had to be kept short. According to Baird's diary, the week had gone something like this:

_Day one: Get out of Med Centre, tell squad members about medical discharge. They complain &amp; generally freak out. Have 3 seizures (2.35pm, 3am x2). Sam acts weird.  
Day two: "Friends" spend time trying to get signature on discharge waiver. Go back to Med Centre for more meds. Have 1 seizure (12.15pm). Give in &amp; sign discharge waiver. Get dragged to senior staff meeting.  
Day three: Get dragged to rescued prisoner interrogation at Med Centre, also endure medical torture there &amp; __excruciati __ v. bad leg pain. Play chess with Sam and she acts weird again. No seizures.  
Day four: Delta still providing 26 hour babysitting service. Started PT with Cpl Thompson, which is just more torture by medical professionals. No seizures._

Physiotherapy left him worn out, because, since he wanted to walk again, he worked hard at the exercises, and he almost always napped afterwards, which he was sort of embarrassed by. And in general, Baird still tired easily, which was mainly down to the continued healing that his body was engaged in, so there wasn't much he could do about it. Thompson also wanted him to try putting weight on his bad leg, which sounded stupid, but in theory the frame should support him enough to do it. So far, every time they'd tried it, that had been too painful and he'd just have to wait for it to heal more.

_Day five: Stayed awake long enough to get through more of the blueprints. Sam helped. No seizures.  
Day six: I got to tell everyone to fuck off and leave me alone, after 72 hrs of no seizures. No one actually left me alone. No seizures._

The longer version of day six was that he'd taken great delight in telling everyone that it had been 72 hours without any seizures, he was therefore fine, and could now officially be alone. Everyone got the message and left him to it. As it turned out, he was alone for about three hours total, but it was better than nothing and it was the longest he'd been on his own in four weeks. Then Cole turned up to make sure he ate lunch, and ruined his attempts at making a pretence of independent living. Still, not much could dent his happiness at being seizure free for the required period of time to allow him to just be in his own quarters without anyone needing to watch him.

_Day seven: Visit from Cpl Brennan. Workshop has not burned down despite my absence. Needed advice on a downed chopper. Persuaded Cole to push me down to the landing pad, but he wouldn't let me near enough to help out. Bastard. Argument ensued. No seizures.  
_  
Baird actually missed the workshop and the hands-on fixing of things. However, no one seemed to be in a hurry to get him back to work, in fact the opposite was true. They barely let him look at the blueprints for more than an hour a day, and then he was supposed to rest. Until the cast came off his arm, he couldn't get more than short distances on his own. That meant he wasn't going to be sneaking off by himself anywhere outside of the accommodation block, so he had to put up with the attentions of his well-meaning friends.

_Day eight: More blueprints, more chess with Sam. Bored. Leg hurt. Didn't sleep well. No seizures.  
Day nine: Finished off the blueprints. More chess with Sam. Still bored. Still not being left alone by Delta. No seizures.  
_  
By this point, he was getting a steady stream of visitors. Cole was there every evening, Marcus took him to his physio sessions, Anya dropped in to see that he had enough supplies and Jace stopped by to play cards badly. Clay Carmine was notable by his absence, but Baird didn't blame him for that given that apparently Daniel Carmine's pneumonia had taken a turn for the worse. Baird hoped he pulled through because anyone who actually read his intelligence reports deserved a break, and, well, to not be dead.

And then there was Sam, who turned up every morning to help clean his leg frame because he still couldn't bend over without feeling dizzy. And radioed in at lunch time "just to check in" but he knew it was really because she wanted to make sure he was eating. And arrived at his quarters in the afternoons with the chess board because "she needed more practise", but actually because she thought he'd be bored (she was right). There hadn't been a repeat of the amazing back rub incident, but then his leg hadn't been causing him such excruciating pain lately. He almost wished that it was so that he had an excuse for her to do it again. He found himself looking forwards to afternoon chess with Sam, which was such a weird feeling that he had no idea what to do with it.

_Day ten: Persuaded Marcus and Cole to take me out to investigate building that looked interesting. Hoffman arrives today._

The blueprints which Marcus had brought over helped to pass the time and after ten days, they were almost all categorised into either "interesting", "very interesting", or "dull". The ones in the "very interesting" category were somewhat intriguing, and Baird was desperate to go and take a look. He still wasn't quite sure how he'd managed it, but perhaps they'd realised just how dull he was finding life at the moment. He'd actually caught himself wondering if he could build a bomb with the stuff lying around his quarters, and if he told anyone that then they'd never let him be on his own again.

Luckily Marcus and Cole had succumbed to pressure and so he was now exploring a crumbling building in one of the less well travelled parts of Azura. In front of them was a wide corridor with a marble floor and wooden doors. Each door led on to a lab area where scientists had worked on whatever crazy evil technology Prescott had wanted that week. The Locust had definitely been through here and there was evidence of old blood and bullet holes, probably where they'd just shot the civilian scientists on sight. It was all rather morbid stuff.

"What exactly are we supposed to find here?" asked Cole.

"Well, for starters, equipment," said Baird. "This was supposed to be a biochemistry lab, so they should have mass spectrometers, microscopes, gas chromatographs, centrifuges and who knows what else. Which means that we can set up our own chemistry lab and begin looking at making our own antibiotics, painkillers, insulin, and hopefully, anti-seizure medication. Assuming that I can work out how it all functions and that any of it is working."

"We might as well start somewhere," said Marcus. "Right or left?"

Baird pulled out the blueprint for this particular building from where he'd tucked it into his sling. It was labelled "Embry Labs" and hadn't given any indication as to its function on the plans. He'd had to work it all out from the services going into the building and the layout of the rooms.

"Try left. It's the largest lab on the blueprints," he suggested.

Marcus pulled Baird to one side of the door and he and Cole both drew their Lancers. Apparently they were going to do this the old fashioned way. It made Baird feel sort of lost and rather useless. He was used to being one of the people that kicked down doors and rushed through them, guns blazing. Sitting in a wheelchair while he watched other people work was not something he was going to enjoy, and this was the first opportunity he'd had to really get to grips with that. Of course, Marcus was being his usual over-cautious self, Baird was fairly certain that there wasn't anything left alive in here that could hurt them.

On a count of two, Cole thrust the door open with a kick and he and Marcus bundled through, scanning the corners for any movement. The room was as empty as the corridor.

"Clear," shouted Marcus, holstering his weapon again.

"I'm so glad we've got you to protect us, oh fearless leader," said Baird, from the corridor. "The ghosts of all those dead scientists that the Locust shot are all going to be quaking in their boots."

"Better safe than sorry," said Cole. "Who knows what Prescott's minions were doing down here."

Marcus was back in the corridor, pushing Baird's chair forwards again. "You were the one who said you didn't know what we were going to find in here."

"Yeah, I meant supplies and technology," said Baird. "This place is a science ghost town."

Marcus moved him through the double doors and into the huge lab that they'd just opened up. It was full of lab benches stocked with arrays of glassware, Bunsen burners and other lab equipment. There were banks of computers too, which almost made this trip worth it all on its own.

"Fuck me, this is like Winterfest come early," said Baird.

Cole put a hand on Baird's shoulder. "Oh yeah, baby, we've hit the jackpot." He wandered off to take a look at some of the other things around the lab.

"I wonder if any of it still works," said Baird. "Take me over there. I want to see if there's any power in this building."

Marcus rolled his eyes at the lack of any "please", but did as Baird asked. He positioned the wheelchair in front of one of the many banks of computers. Baird flicked the on switch and lights glimmered with life on the panels.

"Okay, well that's good, but where the fuck is it drawing the power from?" asked Baird.

"One thing at a time," said Marcus.

Baird looked at the screen for a moment. The letters danced around and try as he might he couldn't make the light green symbols on the dark green background stay still long enough to mean anything. He took a deep breath and tried again, looking more closely. This used to be so easy.

"What's the matter?" asked Marcus, who'd apparently noticed that Baird wasn't doing anything.

He sighed. There was no way of saying this without it being embarrassing.

"I can't read it," said Baird. "Dyslexia, remember? There's something about the green on green that's making it worse."

Marcus frowned for a second. "I'm your eyes then. It says "Embry Lab systems online. Enter passcode" and then there are six underscore lines with a flashing cursor by the first."

"I'm dyslexic not blind," said Baird. "I don't need you to paint me a picture, just read the words. Okay, so it wants a passcode. That's going to be a bitch to crack. Unless…"

Baird typed in "123456" and pressed Enter.

"It says "incorrect code"," said Marcus.

Baird tried "000000" and then "567890" both of which failed to work. He cracked his knuckles and typed: "Embry1".

The screen changed and Baird knew he'd been successful. "Who's going to break into a secret island base with a Maelstrom barrier?" he asked no one in particular. "No one, that's who. So, why bother with a password that's doing anything more than testing whether you have a human brain?"

"Did you get somewhere?" asked Cole.

"Yup," replied Baird. "It wasn't even a challenge." Then he looked at the words scrolling down the screen and realised that he couldn't read any of it. "Great, I'm so fucked. The secrets to the universe could be in here and I'd never be able to read them."

"We've got plenty of time," said Marcus. "Hoffman's not due in until this afternoon."

"If you have to read every word for me, this is going to take all of that time and more," said Baird.

"Then we'd better get started," said Marcus.

So they did. Marcus read the words and Baird typed commands. The computer banks were full of research data and they only scratched the surface of it, but they did come across a couple of worrying things including some files that were labelled "biological agent 491" and "biological agent 628", and an indication that the building had a basement which wasn't on any of the plans.

"If those idiots were messing about with bioweapons then we might have a big problem on our hands," said Baird. "Usually these things are kept in refrigerated containment and if the power fails…"

"Oh hell no, baby," said Cole. "You cannot be telling me that we just started putting this world back together only to get taken down by some weapons grade flu virus that Prescott was messing about with."

"Then I'll shut up," said Baird. "Because it's a distinct possibility. Unless the power source that's powering this computer is also maintaining containment on whatever these biological agents are, but we should really work out where these things are and destroy them, and if we could do that yesterday then it won't be soon enough."

"Shit," said Marcus. "We're going to need more manpower." He put a finger to his radio. "Control, this is Fenix. We've got a situation up at the East Labs building. We're going to need rapid response squads to help search the building for a biological agent containment facility."

"Fenix, this is Control. Did I copy that correctly? Confirm "biological agent"?"

"Yes, Control, you heard correctly. Make sure that Lieutenant Stroud is informed, but tell her to stay in Operations," said Marcus.

"Good luck with that," said Baird. If Anya sat this one out then it would be a miracle.

"Roger that, Sergeant. All response squads are being despatched to your location. Please keep us advised on the situation, usual check-in times for field ops," said Control.

"Understood, Fenix out," said Marcus. He turned to Cole. "Get Baird out of here."

"What?" said Baird, with both surprise and anger in his tone. "No way am I leaving you to do this on your own. You'll open the wrong door and we'll be knee deep in corpses before dinner time."

"You're injured and this situation just got dangerous," said Marcus.

"You need me," said Baird, indicating the computers in front of him.

"This isn't a debate, Baird," said Marcus, with some annoyance. "You're not cleared for active duty."

"Look, Cole and I can stay here. He can do the reading for me, and I'll use the maps in the computer to guide you," said Baird, trying to sound reasonable and persuasive. "We can't afford to miss anything because it could kill us later."

Marcus let out an exasperated growl. "Damn it. Okay, but Cole, at the first sign of trouble you get him out of here. I don't care if you have to do it at gunpoint."

"You got it, Marcus," said Cole, and Baird didn't like the look that the two of them exchanged.

"I hate you both," said Baird. "Come on, let's get this done."

Cole began to read for Baird as he navigated his way through the system, drilling down to the building security systems. Marcus paced nervously while he waited for their backup to arrive.

Zeta squad were the first to get there.

"What's he doing here?" asked Alex, upon seeing Baird sat at the computer. "Isn't he still supposed to be tucked up in bed?"

Baird flipped her off.

"Tech support," said Marcus, turning so that he was between Alex and Baird. Baird didn't know whether to be amused, flattered or pissed off that Marcus thought that he might need protecting from Alex Brand and her inanities.

Jace arriving with Kappa squad interrupted any further explanation or discussion, especially as this was then followed by Anya making her inevitable entrance, along with Sam and her squad, Lima. Gamma and Beta squads made their appearance about two minutes after that. Sam looked a little puzzled by Baird's presence, but kept any opinions on it to herself. Everyone was in their full combat gear and had their Lancers on their backs. It almost reminded Baird of old times, but then he'd have been standing there with them, getting ready to move out. He suppressed the stirrings of jealousy within himself and concentrated on the screens.

"What's the Sit Rep?" said Anya.

Marcus went through their problem in short order, glossing over how they'd come to be here in the first place. He definitely wasn't pleased that Anya was there, but wasn't going to have the argument in front of everyone.

"And why is Baird here?" asked Anya.

"We need someone to work the computers for us," said Marcus.

"Damn it, Marcus, he's not supposed to be out exploring buildings," said Anya, lowering the tone of her voice but not enough so that Baird couldn't hear her.

"Hey," said Baird, "I'm right here, and you don't have anyone else that can access these systems, so I'd suggest everyone stops bitching and starts searching. All the super-secret stuff is down in the basement - the basement that isn't supposed to exist according to these plans." He waved at the blueprints that were now spread out on the bench beside him.

"Prescott and his secrets," said Anya. "Okay, how do we get to this hidden basement?"

"There's an elevator at the end of that corridor. It goes down as well as up. I can hack the systems to take you to the basement," said Baird.

"Okay, Marcus, Zeta, Lima, you're with me. We'll check out the basement," said Anya. "Kappa, take this floor. Gamma find the stairs and start on the next floor. Beta, you've got the top floor. No opening any locked doors without checking in with Baird."

"Yeah, and as much as I hate to suggest it, we should probably get Hayman over here too," said Baird. "She might have a hope in hell of understanding bio containment procedures."

"Okay, but she stays up here," said Anya. "Move out, Gears."

There were general shouts of "yes, Ma'am," and the Gears dispersed.

Baird turned back to the computer console, and waited for Marcus to let him know that they were in the elevator. Finally he felt like he was actually doing something useful, although Hayman was probably going to rip him a new one when she turned up and found out what he'd been doing. Every mission had its risk factors, he supposed.

* * *

The elevator descended, once Baird had done his thing, and Marcus felt his stomach twist with apprehension. He didn't like walking into situations without any knowledge of what he was going to find. The worst part of this was that the danger probably wasn't something that could be solved by filling it full of bullets either. Almost everything that they'd come across so far, Locust, Lambent, and the UIR, could be dealt with through the application of force. If there were biological agents in this building then they had no defences against them.

"Okay, the doors should open out onto a long corridor," said Baird's voice. He could hear Cole saying something in the background, probably telling Baird what was on his screen. "You've got secure labs down both sides. There are four in total, two on each side. The projects that we're looking for should be in lab three, but I'd suggest taking a look at the others whilst you're there. You know, just in case Prescott left any other nasty surprises down there for us. Lab two's a fair bit bigger than the others."

The doors opened onto a grey metal corridor with strip lights that shed a harsh greenish, white light on the area. It was narrow compared to the corridor that they'd entered the lift from, but wide enough for three people to walk abreast. There were long thin windows at about shoulder height, through which they could look into the labs, and already Marcus didn't like the look of them. Only part of each lab could be seen through the windows, and the walls were the same metal as the corridor.

"Roger that," said Anya. "Zeta, you've got lab one. Lima, take lab two. Marcus and I are on three. Whoever finishes first gets to move on to lab four."

"They've all got airlock doors. Once you're inside, you're going to have to wait for decontamination and airlock cycles to get out again. Don't expect a quick exit," said Baird.

"Understood, hopefully we won't need one," said Anya.

"Baird?" asked Sam. "What's the door for at the end of the corridor? You said there were four labs, but there are five doors."

There was a pause and they could hear typing, and Cole speaking in the background again.

"Cole, tell me I'm looking at this right," they heard, as Baird apparently asked Cole for confirmation of something that he was looking at.

"What's the matter?" asked Alex. "Having trouble with the big words, Baird?"

Marcus rounded on Alex, just as Sam gave her a stare of pure death. They hadn't generally informed people about Baird's neurological condition, because Baird hadn't wanted to tell lots of people, so Alex really didn't know just how crass she was being with that remark. Clearly Sam didn't appreciate it, and Marcus found that he wasn't too happy about it either. Unfortunately none of them had time for either explanations or arguments, so pulling Alex up on that would have to wait.

"Fuck you, Brand," was Baird's reply. "So, I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

Marcus looked at Anya. "Lead with the bad news," he said.

"The bad news is that door at the end of the corridor leads to a nuclear reactor which hasn't had any maintenance done on it for over six months," said Baird. "Oh, and potentially all the fighting and building destruction shaking the island around might have damaged it. I can't tell from up here whether it's still functioning within expected norms."

"Awesome," said Marcus, sarcastically.

"And the good news?" asked Anya.

"That nuclear reactor is powering this building and potentially could power every building on the island, which means that bio containment failure due to the power going off is probably unlikely," said Baird. "Unless there's a problem with the reactor, in which case we're all screwed."

"That's not really good news," said Marcus.

"The first bit was," said Baird. "Sue me on the rest of it. Nuclear reactors aren't meant to be built and then forgotten about. They have to be either maintained or decommissioned."

"Great, more problems," said Anya. "For now, let's concentrate on the labs. The reactor's been fine for the last six months, we'll just have to hope it holds up a while longer."

"They weren't big on labelling things, were they?" said Sam. "There's not so much as a radiation alert sticker down here."

"Okay, I'm opening the lab airlock doors to the corridors," said Baird. "There should be hazmat suits inside the airlock according to this. You might want to put those on."

"Copy that," said Anya.

"Hayman's here," added Baird. "She looks pretty pissed off. I'd better talk to her before she has a coronary of something."

"Rather you than me," said Marcus, wryly and turned back to the door in front of him.

There was a hiss of doors opening and the Gears moved off to their various assigned directions. Marcus picked up one of the hazmat suits that was hung on a peg to one side of the airlock and began to pull it on over his armour. Anya did likewise. They checked each other's seals and hit the door release to move through to the next lab.

The lighting here was the same as in the corridor. It was harsh and had a slight green tint to it. It made everything look sharp and clinical. The metal surfaces shone slightly where they'd been polished by arms rubbing across them constantly.

"Where do we start?" asked Anya.

Marcus looked around him. The lab wasn't terribly large compared to the one upstairs where Baird was still positioned. It only had three rows of lab benches, each one metal and with lots of lab equipment set out on it. There were rows and rows of sealed test-tubes in racks. Across one side of the lab were sealed glass boxes with robotic arms and gloved access ports, and down another was a large bank of fridges with glass fronts. There were various machines, that Marcus couldn't even begin to guess the purpose of, dotted around the lab.

"The fridges," said Marcus. "Baird said that biological agents are usually refrigerated."

Marcus approached the fridges, and Anya moved across the lab so that she was beside him. They could see several bags of red liquid inside the cabinet.

"Is that blood?" she asked.

"It looks like it," said Marcus. "But it's not human. Look at the labels."

"Kantus, Brumak, Theron, Drone, Mauler…" read Anya. "This is Locust blood."

"I guess they needed something to test whatever they were making on," said Marcus. He was looking at the writing that the labels were scribbled in, it looked a little familiar. "That's my father's handwriting."

"Your father worked in this lab?" asked Anya.

"Who knows what Prescott had him doing," replied Marcus, but he did wonder how much of it was at Prescott's bidding and how much was his father's own ideas. He'd said "I'm an old hand at mass destruction" and it was true. He'd known about the Locust for a long time and Marcus couldn't bring himself to ask Baird what was on the disk that his father had given him. He wondered if Baird had even looked at it.

One of the other fridges contained what appeared to be samples of imulsion, which was now dead, of course, but had exploded in the fridge smashing open the door. Some of the Lambent had literally exploded when Marcus's father had deployed the imulsion countermeasure, so that was probably what had happened here.

"I'm glad of the suits," said Anya.

"Yeah," said Marcus. "Don't go near the broken glass, you don't want to risk putting a hole in it."

Anya nodded, moving towards the enclosed compartments. "This might be what we're looking for," said Anya. "There are bottles here labelled Biological Agent 491 and Biological Agent 628. Oh good god, there are more and they're all marked "Human contagion factors"."

Marcus came over to see what she was looking at, and could see the rows of bottles that Anya was talking about. There were others described as "mutated contagion factors" and some that were described as "mutated contagions for Locust trials".

"Great, now we just need to work out how to destroy them," said Marcus.

"And everything else in this lab," said Anya. "I don't want anything coming back to bite us later because we weren't smart enough to do a thorough job."

"Yeah, and I'm beginning to think that we should have checked out all of these buildings as a matter of priority. If Baird hadn't found this place, then we might be looking at a viral outbreak of some kind," said Marcus.

"Maybe he can come up with a way of safely getting rid of this stuff," said Anya. "I mean, is burning it going to be enough, or should we be considering radiation, or something else entirely?"

"Lima to Stroud," said Sam's voice. "Anya, you might want to take a look at this. We've found some dead Locust, and well, I'm really not sure what this is."

Anya glanced at Marcus with trepidation in her eyes. "We'll be with you as soon as we've cycled the airlock," said Anya. "Stroud to Baird, come in Corporal."

"Baird here. How's it going? Beta squad just finished their sweep of the top floor. It was all reassuringly dull," said Baird's crackling voice over the radio.

"We found the projects we were looking for. At the moment they're safely contained, but there is definitely evidence of damage to some of these labs. They had imulsion samples and it looks like they exploded. We're being careful," said Anya. "Lima squad have found something that they want Marcus and I to take a look at. Can you cycle the airlock for us on Lab 3?"

"Hah, I was just going to leave you down there," said Baird.

"Not funny, Baird," said Marcus.

"Okay, opening your airlock. Cole tells me there are showers, ultraviolet lights and positive pressure, so your ears might feel weird as you move through. It should take about five minutes to get you decontaminated and into the corridor. I'll let you know when it's safe to take off your suits."

Marcus and Anya stepped into the airlock, their ears equalising to the new pressure and the door closed behind them. Ultra violet lights flickered on, and they waited in silence for a couple of minutes. Suddenly there was a noise over the radio.

"This is Zeta, Baird we need those doors opened now," said Alex's voice. "Roberts is down. I repeat Roberts is down and we need casevac."

Someone was screaming in the background.

"Wait, Brand, this is important. Is his hazmat suit okay?" asked Baird's voice. "Is the material intact?"

"No, damnit," said Alex. "He touched some weird goo and it started eating his suit, then it started on him. It's like it's alive. Shit. Roberts, Sean, hold it together. Get that door open, Baird!"

"No!" said Baird. "Whatever that stuff is, it can't be allowed out of containment. I've got medics on the way to you."

"Baird, open the fucking door," said Alex. They could hear the other members of Zeta shouting at each other but it was impossible to make out what they were saying.

"I can't," said Baird, with desperation. "I can't. You'll have to treat him there."

"Baird…" began Marcus. There had to be something that they could do.

"He's right," said Anya, abruptly. "Baird's right."

"Fuck you, I have a man down," shouted Alex. "I need to get him to the medics."

"Sergeant Brand, we cannot allow anything out of these labs. It could kill us all," said Anya. "Medics will have to suit up and treat him inside the lab. That's an order."

"This is Hayman. I'm in the elevator and on my way down to you. I'll suit up and come to you. What are his symptoms?"

"He's having trouble breathing. His veins turned dark red, almost black. Now, uh… His skin is… bleeding, sort of all over… like it's turning to liquid," said Alex, haltingly, clearly having difficulty with the description.

"You need to look around for a counteragent. That's the only thing that's going to help him," said Hayman. "Whatever he touched should be labelled and there should be something nearby with the same designation, but called counteragent or antiviral. It should have syringes with it."

Alex could be heard swearing and trying to help Roberts, then her radio clicked off.

"Zeta, report. What is your status?" asked Anya. The shower had begun in the airlock and Marcus was finding it hard to hear his radio over the noise of the water on his suit.

"Fucked," said Alex. "Our status is fucked. Teucer is down. Coughing up blood. Roberts… Roberts is dead. Teucer was trying to help him, and the damn stuff got on his suit. It kills in minutes and I can't find anything called counteragent or anti-viral."

"Alex, you and Quinn need to get out of there now," said Marcus, as calmly as he could manage. "Get yourselves into decontamination."

The airlock for lab three had finally finished its cycling and Marcus and Anya rushed over to the windows that allowed them to see into lab one. They could just about see two men down on the ground between the lab benches, Quinn hunched over them and Alex standing, looking for something on one of the lab benches. She turned as she caught the movement at the window.

"Sergeant Brand, move your ass," said Marcus, with more feeling.

"Yes, Sergeant Fenix," replied Brand, angrily. "Quinn, come on."

"Sorry, Sarge," said Quinn, and held up a hand. Marcus could make out the disintegrating rubber. It was brittle and flaking away, revealing his bare hand underneath. "I think I'll be staying here."

Alex made to move towards him and Quinn backed away. "Oh no, we don't need you going down with this too," said Quinn. "Come back with flamethrowers and burn this stuff. Promise me that, Brand."

"You have my promise, Quinn. I'll burn it all."

Alex turned and walked to the airlock, glancing back at the rest of her squad. Behind her Quinn collapsed to the ground and Marcus could see the veins in his skin turning dark red.

"Baird, open the airlock," said Marcus.

"Done," said Baird. Alex stepped inside and he shut the door behind her. "Cycling."

"Zeta squad's last stand," chuckled Quinn. "Taken out by a jar of slime." He fumbled with the seals on his suit.

Marcus turned around as the elevator doors opened and Hayman and Jensen dashed out. They came to a halt as they saw Anya and Marcus's faces.

"You're too late," snarled Marcus.

Behind him there was the crack of a rifle going off, twice. Everyone turned towards the window to see that Quinn had put a bullet in Teucer's head, followed by one in his own. It was probably better than drowning in your own blood.

"It would seem so," said Hayman, dryly, with a glance towards the lab. "I doubt I could have done much for them."

"What the hell's going on out there?" asked Sam, over the radio. "I thought I heard gunfire."

"Sam, we lost Roberts, Teucer and Quinn, but everyone else is safe," said Anya. "Just be careful with your suits. There's some deadly stuff down here. Doctor, get Sergeant Brand up to the surface and then take her to the Medical Centre. I want her to have a full check-up."

Hayman nodded, just as Alex emerged from the airlock, now without her hazmat suit. She strode past the waiting Gears and doctor, towards the lift.

"Alex…" began Anya.

"I don't want to hear it," said Alex. "Whatever it is, I don't give a fuck. I'm getting a flamethrower and I'm sterilising this place. Then I'm going to beat an apology out of Baird for not following an order."

"Stand down, Sergeant," said Anya, making the command unmistakeable. Marcus didn't hear her use this tone of voice particularly often. Anya very rarely needed to raise her voice to get people to follow her orders, but she certainly wasn't above using her tone to make her displeasure clear.

"Stand down? Stand down?!" shouted Alex. "My squad are dead. My squad who made it through everything that the Locust threw at us, until we came to this island. You let them die! You could have opened that door and we could have decontaminated him…"

Hayman was shaking her head. "Whatever this was, it was already inside his body. There would have been no saving him without the antigen."

"You don't know that," said Alex. "You can't know that."

"I can make educated guesses based on symptoms and what you told me," said Hayman.

"Get out of my way," said Alex, heading for the elevator again.

"Marcus, Doctor Hayman, go with her," said Anya. She caught hold of Marcus's arm as he started to move forwards and said very quietly. "Keep her out of here and away from Baird."

"Yes, Ma'am," muttered Marcus, following Alex towards the elevator. Hayman was half a step ahead of him, looking eager to get out of the basement.

He didn't need to be told that Alex was a ticking bomb at the moment. Zeta had been together a good long while and they were a team. If he'd just lost Baird and Cole then he'd be looking for someone to blame too. When Dom had died, all Marcus had wanted to do was to hit the Locust and hurt them. He'd taken great pleasure in killing every single grub that he could get his hands on, although none of it really helped the inescapable fact that Dom just wasn't there anymore. But you couldn't hit something that came from a petri dish, and that was Alex's real problem.


	11. Chapter 11

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Slightly slow with the update, but hope you enjoy the new chapter. Many, many thanks to my awesome reviewers for all their comments so far.

* * *

Sam was increasingly worried about what was going on outside the lab they'd been assigned to investigate. The radio chatter was concerning and then just plain frightening.

"Sam, we lost Roberts, Teucer and Quinn, but everyone else is safe," said Anya. "Just be careful with your suits. There's some deadly stuff down here."

That was an understatement if ever she'd heard one. Her radio clicked again.

"Sam, this is Baird. Are you and Lima okay?" Baird sounded genuinely concerned, and he was talking to her on a private channel.

"Yeah, we're fine," said Sam. "We're steering well clear of anything that even looks like it might be dangerous."

"Don't touch anything, and I mean anything. Something ate its way through Zeta's suits," said Baird.

"Okay, message understood," said Sam.

"Just… just be careful," said Baird. "Shout when you need to leave. Baird out."

Sam frowned. That was a little strange to say the least. That was the second time that Baird had ever expressed concern about her welfare. It was a far cry from their antagonistic early relationship. Unfortunately she didn't have time to think about it at the moment. The airlock was cycling and Anya was coming to join them. She stepped out of the airlock, clad in the same hazmat suit that the rest of them were wearing.

"Lieutenant," Sam said in greeting. She usually gave Anya her rank when addressing her in front of her squad, it was a sign of respect that Anya deserved.

"What have you found?" asked Anya. "I'd like to get us all out of here as quickly as possible."

"You'll get no argument from me on that," replied Sam. "This place is creepy. This way." She led Anya through the large lab and past rows of fume cabinets and containment cupboards with gloves for manipulating the contents within.

They came to a large metal table that resembled a medieval torture device. On it was a dead Drone with its organs exposed and covered in clear plastic. There was clear evidence of degradation.

"Oh my god," said Anya.

"Yeah, I'm glad the suits have their own air supply," said Sam. "I bet it stinks in here. There are more Locust bodies in those metal boxes over there."

She indicated several metal boxes with clear plastic windows, that were about the size and shape of coffins. Anya stepped over and peeked inside, just as Sam had done a few minutes earlier.

"Test subject?" she asked.

"I'd guess so," said Sam.

The other members of Lima were down the far end of the lab, still investigating what they'd found. They moved on towards them and the things that she'd specifically brought Anya to see. Sam could see Anya's face as she caught sight of it. Her expression was a mix of shock and bafflement.

There were rows and rows of large glass cylinders, that reached from the floor to the ceiling. Some were broken, with large dangerous shards of glass sticking up and their contents spilling grotesquely out onto the floor. Others were intact. Each one was filled with a pink liquid and floating in the liquid was what appeared to be a foetus. Sam had at first assumed that they were from animals, but in some cylinders they had, she guessed, developed until they were recognisably human infants. Right at the back were two cylinders, one of which was empty and the other clearly held something much larger, the size of a fully grown man.

Sam led Anya carefully through the ranks of cylinders until she came face to face with someone that they both knew far too well. There was a man floating in the tank, eyes shut, apparently in some sort of suspended animation or maybe just sleeping.

"I'm not dreaming, am I?" asked Anya. "That's…"

"Chairman Prescott, the last real Chairman of the COG," said Sam. "Although he looks younger than when we last saw him."

"But I watched him die," said Anya. "I was trying to save him when he bled out."

"I don't know how they did it, and I really don't want to, but they _grew_ another Chairman Prescott, and who knows how many times they did it. I mean, are all of these…" Sam gestured at the other cylinders, "are they him too?"

"I don't know," said Anya, looking around her. "Hayman's checking over Alex, but once she's done with that, I'll get her to come down here and take a look at this. Do you think it's still working? Is he alive?" The Lieutenant was staring at Prescott's face now, apparently trying to determine if he was real.

"No idea," said Sam. "Obviously some of them are broken, but this place still seems to have power. There's something else that you should see too."

Sam took Anya to a very large metal cabinet that they'd found in one corner of the lab. It was marked "cryogenic tissue storage". There was a touch screen, built into the door and it still seemed to be working.

"I think you're going to like this even less," said Sam. She touched the screen. Scrolling text ran across it.

"_Tissue bank of Founding Families of the Coalition of Ordered Governments. Samples housed here: Astrid Family, Baird Family, Dalyell Family, Desipich Family, Embry Family, Fenix Family, Monroe Family, Pellegrino Family, Prescott Family, Serrano Family, Tamerin Family, Weale Family. For permanent storage."_

"Baird and Fenix," murmured Anya. "I always forget that Baird's family were one of the founding families of the COG. He never talks about them."

Sam shrugged. "I don't think much love was lost."

"What is the point of a tissue bank for the founding families? I mean what were they going to do with these samples?" mused Anya. She frowned, and glanced back towards Prescott. "Is this how they made him? Were they going to do that with the Allfathers too?"

Sam had more surprises yet. "Not just the Allfathers. Scroll through the list of names."

Anya gingerly touched the screen, and found a menu that she could access that told her which samples were housed in the cryogenic storage container. She scrolled through until she came to names she recognised.

"Baird, Damon S., Baird, Jocelin D., Baird, Elinor L., Fenix, Marcus M., Fenix, Adam J., Fenix, Elain," read off Anya. "They all have several generations. This is their families. This is a bank of genetic material from generations of the Founding Families."

"Look at the collection dates," said Sam. "They must have collected Marcus' and Baird's samples at birth or close to. I'm guessing, because neither of them have ever told me their birthdays."

Anya glanced at the collection dates. Marcus's was 14th day of Frost 21 BE, whereas Baird's was 4th day of Bloom 18 BE.

"They look right," said Anya. "I used to have access to the personnel records."

"Baird was born on the 4th day of Bloom? I bet he loved that. All those explosions," said Sam.

"He swore me to secrecy on his birth date," said Anya. "He said he doesn't like remembering it."

Sam wasn't terribly surprised by that. "Oh well, I guess we'll both just have to keep his secret."

"I think we should keep everything in this room a secret. At least for now," said Anya. "I need to talk to Colonel Hoffman about everything we've found here."

"What about Marcus and Baird?" asked Sam. "Don't they deserve to know about this?"

Anya shook her head. "No, I don't want them to be placed in a difficult position." She turned to the rest of the squad. "Lima, what you have seen in this room is classified until I say otherwise. That means no talking about it to anyone and no discussing it amongst yourselves where you can be overheard. If anything gets out about this then I will know where it came from. Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," said all four members of Lima squad.

"Okay, let's get out of here," said Anya, leading them all back towards the entrance. She tapped her radio through her suit. "Come in, Baird, this is Stroud in lab two. Open the airlock. We're coming out."

"This is Baird. Copy that." Sam thought he sounded a little tired, and just a touch relieved, but she wasn't going to discuss that over an open radio link. There were no witty remarks appended to his statement, but then she doubted he felt terribly witty with three dead Gears in the basement.

The airlock whooshed open and the five of them stepped inside. There was no chatting and the mood was sombre. The decontamination programme finished and they walked out into the hallway. None of them looked in the direction of lab one. They just made their way to the elevator as quickly as they could.

* * *

As Baird expected, Hayman had shouted at him extensively for going exploring when she'd arrived at the labs. She'd shouted at him even more for opening up a biohazard containment area without her being present, but that shouting was also directed at Anya and Marcus, who were currently elsewhere. Apparently they should have waited for the CMO. He was saved from it being worse because Hayman was preoccupied with other things, including dying Gears and then getting Alex to the Med Centre to check her over.

Baird had felt a strange need to check in with Sam as soon as he heard about the demise of Zeta squad. He ignored the raised eyebrows that Cole gave him and made sure that Sam knew to be even more careful than she was already being. He was beginning to wish he'd never suggested coming to this building, but then they'd have just had to check it out another time. Nothing made him happier than when Anya commed him to say that they were leaving.

It all seemed to be winding down until Marcus escorted Alex out of the elevator, but wasn't quick enough to stop her from marching straight for Baird and giving him a piece of her mind. Given that this was the most activity that Baird had been involved in since he'd left the hospital, it wasn't really what he wanted to be engaging in. He'd actually rather have just gone back to his quarters and crashed out, sleeping away his memories of people shouting and screaming. He needed time to rebuild his walls, and stop caring about what had just happened.

"You utter bastard," said the slim, red headed Gear. "You let them die."

"I didn't have a choice, Brand," replied Baird. He felt at a disadvantage, sitting in his chair, so he stood on his good leg and lent on the edge of a lab bench for added stability.

"My squad are dead because you didn't follow an order," said Alex. "I'm going to put you on report and make sure that Hoffman hears about this."

"That's enough, Alex," said Marcus, putting a hand on Alex's shoulder to turn her back towards the entrance. "You're not putting him on report, he was just doing his job."

"He's not even cleared for duty yet," snarled Alex, shaking off Marcus's hand. "He shouldn't even be here."

"Come on, I was ordered to get you to the Medical Centre," said Marcus.

Hayman looked annoyed by all of this as she stepped into the room, clearly waiting for Alex to finish so that they could leave.

"You're not getting away with this, you bastard. You can't hide behind being Delta forever," said Alex.

Baird was about to come out with a smart retort, but that was when his brain decided that it was tired, stressed and had had enough. Three Gears had just died, and although he wouldn't admit it out loud, he did feel a little responsible. Alex was talking, shouting gobbledygook at him and he didn't have time to get himself to the floor before the bright lights exploded behind his eyes and someone was grabbing him, holding him as he fell and then he was gone.

When he woke up he felt like a collection of wet spaghetti. He had no energy or force in his body. He had no idea where he was or what had happened. He was lying on his side, and his useless limbs ached fiercely. There were people around him, but they seemed distant, apart from one who was sat beside him.

"Hey Baird, duvet coffee pot suitcase typing exercise," said the person, in a voice that he knew really well. It was a deep voice, with warm inflections. This person was a friend.

Baird just groaned. His words wouldn't come and his limbs would only twitch. He flicked his eyes up to his friend's face, pleading with him to help him.

"It's okay, Baird, pocket watch melon, don't try to move tissue feather bed, cordon coffee pot socks electricity happened," said the person, and took his twitching hand.

"You had a serapede, don't try to move until you feel biscuit. We're in the lab building and you've been out a few mice," said Cole.

It was then that the name and face clicked together, and he groaned this time because his brain had put all the pieces together. Stuff was coming back to him, although his limbs were still stiff and not responding yet.

"Baird, you had a seizure, don't try to move until you feel better. We're in the lab building and you've been out a few minutes," said Cole.

Baird squeezed his friend's fingers to let him know that he'd understood.

"Okay, there you are, baby," said Cole. "Still scrambled?"

Again Baird squeezed his fingers.

"Doc Hayman's going to check you over. Hang in there a bit longer. It'll all be back in no time," said Cole.

Baird hated this bit. He'd never been patient and this was just torture. It was like still being frozen after being outside for too long, except it included his speech centres. He always worried that he'd be stuck like this forever, and maybe one day he would be. Stupid head injury.

Hayman knelt on his other side, and put a cold stethoscope to his chest. Then she took his pulse and checked his pupil responses with a painfully bright light.

"His heart rate is a little fast, but then that's only to be expected," said Hayman. "Give him a few minutes and he'll be fine."

"Cole?" asked Baird.

"Yeah, I'm right here," said Cole.

"Floor's cold," managed Baird. He shivered. He was taking longer than usual to unlock his muscles. It hadn't been this bad since he'd had two seizures in a row the first night that he was out of the Med Centre.

"Do you feel up to sitting?" asked Cole.

"Not really," said Baird, truthfully.

Cole looked up at the people nearby that Baird couldn't see. There was a conversation, quiet and rapid, too rapid for Baird's befuddled brain to keep track of.

"Okay, you're a bit more out of it than usual," said Cole. "Hayman's going to take you back to the Med Centre until you're up to heading home."

Baird shut his eyes. He could hear people moving around behind him. He wanted to scream "no" at them, but he couldn't persuade the reasons for why he didn't want that to appear in his mind. He gave up trying. It would all come back.

"Broke my streak," said Baird, finally. "Nearly made it eight days without a seizure."

"Yeah, I think there may have been some extenuating circumstances," said Cole.

Baird let out a sort of laugh, then stopped as more memories began to fill in some of the blanks in his brain. "Sam?" he asked "Where's Sam?" a little more frantically the second time.

"I'm here, Damon," said Sam, moving into his line of sight. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"Okay," he said. "That's good." Medics arrived at that point and lifted him onto a stretcher. His eyes were still on Sam, but he was groggy and aching. His spaghetti analogy was proving pretty accurate, because his limbs were just useless at the moment.

They moved the stretcher out and onto the ATV. Baird gave up at this point and slept. He'd probably feel better when he woke up and be able to move, talk and be less brain scrambled.

He awoke again a few hours later to see Cole sat by his bed, playing cards with Sam. That was… unexpected.

"I thought I told you Pass the Lady wasn't a proper game," said Baird, sleepily. He smirked as it made both of them jump a little.

"Finally," said Sam. "I was beginning to think we'd be here all day."

"Urgh," said Baird as he tried to sit up in the bed he was in. He was a little dizzy, but it was bearable. He looked around himself. "Med Centre. Always a joy to be back here. When can I leave?"

"Probably soon, once Hayman's given you a last check over," said Cole, putting his cards down. "That was kind of a bad one."

"Sorry," said Baird.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," said Sam. "Stress is a trigger, and Alex's temper tantrum put you over your quota for the day. I think she got the message that she'd done something wrong when you started seizing on the floor. You were lucky that Cole was there to catch you."

"Yeah, normally we get more warning than that," said Cole.

"I know. The aura was kind of short and mostly drowned out by noise," said Baird. "How did you know to catch me?"

"You closed your eyes and put your hand to your head, so I was fairly sure of what was coming next," said Cole. "Also you stopped arguing back. Now, the Damon Baird that I know just doesn't do stuff like that."

"Totally out of character," added Sam, and grinned.

"It was only because I couldn't understand what she was saying," said Baird. "Someone get Hayman because I want to know how much alone time this is going to cost me, and then I want to get out of here."

"I'll go," said Sam. She got to her feet and headed out into the corridor to look for the doctor.

Cole watched her leave and then turned back to Baird. He leaned forwards so that only Baird could hear.

"So what's the deal with you and Sam?" asked Cole, a smile beginning on his face.

"What do you mean?" asked Baird, genuine puzzled by the question.

"I know that she shows up every afternoon at your quarters, and that she radios in twice a day," said Cole. "And you were awful worried about her when she was down in the labs."

"I was worried about everyone," said Baird.

"Yeah, but you didn't call the others up on a private frequency and check on them. You also didn't ask for them when you came round after your seizure," said Cole, positively grinning now.

"I did what?" asked Baird.

Damn his stupid, screwed up, post-seizure brain. He really didn't remember doing that, but it wasn't at all unusual for him to lose bits and pieces after a seizure. The stuff that he said and did post seizure seemed to be like stuff that he said and did when he was drunk sometimes.

"You wanted to make sure that Sam was there and okay," said Cole, folding his arms and settling back in his chair. "Don't even try to deny it, I was there. I think you're sweet on her."

Baird's skin flushed pink. "On Samantha Byrne? Me? We spend all our time arguing."

"Except when you're radioing her to check that she's doing okay," said Cole. "And lately, there hasn't been so much arguing."

"Can we talk about something else, please?" asked Baird.

"Sure, baby, but you probably want to talk to Doc Hayman about that chronic case of denial you've got going there," Cole grinned. "Anyway, Anya wants us all front and centre for Hoffman's meet and greet at 16:00, but she made an exception for you."

"Nice of her," said Baird, "but I want to be there. As long as Hayman lets me out."

"I think she'll be okay with it as long as you get some rest afterwards," said Cole. "She said something about too much exertion, stress and not enough sleep."

"My leg's been killing me," admitted Baird. "I didn't have a great night last night."

"That's because you keep trying to do without the pain pills when you should know better by now," said Cole.

"Yeah, because nightmares are so much more conducive to sleep," said Baird. He'd never say that to anyone except Cole or Marcus. He preferred to pretend he didn't get bad dreams, but Cole and Marcus had first-hand evidence, so there was no point in lying to them.

"At least you can get back to sleep after them," said Cole. "And I _know_ you don't get them every night, even when you're on pain meds."

Baird sighed. He hated it when Cole was right.

Sam arrived back with Hayman a few moments later and once again the doctor went through how lack of sleep and lots of stress were triggers for seizures. She pointed out that exploring lab buildings on the island was quite a stressful thing to be doing, and generally reminded him that he was still recovering from a serious head injury. She didn't want to increase his medication which he was glad about, but she did say that he'd need someone with him overnight and tomorrow. This didn't make him happy, but he'd expected something like that. It could have been much worse.

"I guess it's another sleepover at Baird's then," said Sam.

"Yeah, sounds about right," said Cole.

"Awesome," said Baird, miserably.

* * *

Anya ended up being the only member of Delta squad to meet KR Five-Three and its important passenger when it landed on the Azura helipad. After everything that they'd been through during the Pendulum Wars and the Locust War, Hoffman was as much a friend as a commanding officer, but he was still the highest ranking member of the COG. He deserved the honour guard that Anya assembled and more, but she was also aware that the Colonel hated ceremony.

When Hoffman stepped off the helicopter, she saluted and then they shook hands warmly. The honour guard were dismissed and she took Hoffman up to her office. She'd scheduled the rest of Delta's arrival for later. Given what had just happened to Zeta squad, everyone needed a bit of time to decompress.

Both Cole and Sam had opted to head to the Med Centre with Baird, and Marcus had manhandled Alex out of the lab and up the hill for her check-up. Anya's first reaction had been to be angry with Alex for laying into their recovering team mate, but she reminded herself that Alex had just lost her entire squad. Alex was grieving for her friends and probably not exactly functioning entirely rationally. She was going to have to keep an eye on her and probably get Hayman to play psychologist again. That would have to wait for the moment though.

"So, Lieutenant," said Hoffman. "Something's bothering you and has been ever since I stepped off the chopper. Spit it out."

"We've had a few setbacks lately, Colonel," said Anya. "Firstly there's the situation with the Ostrians, although we haven't lost anymore boats to them. They've been quiet the last few days, but we increased patrols, so they may have decided that we're just not worth it."

"Here's hoping," said Hoffman. "More patrols means burning more fuel, but we have to keep our people safe."

"Daniel Carmine was able to give us a fair bit of intel on what the Ostrians are doing, and quite frankly it sounds evil. Basically they're rounding up anyone that they can find and enslaving them." Anya went into more detail, laying out exactly what they'd been told. She took out the plans of the fort and explained that Daniel had been too sick since then to question further.

Hoffman shook his head. "I suppose stuff like this was bound to happen. The power vacuum made it easy for bad people to grab whatever they wanted."

"Marcus wants to take a scout party out to Aspho Point," said Anya. "But I'm concerned about getting us involved in a situation that we're not equipped to handle."

"I'd agree, but they might decide to come in our direction. They've already cost us a fishing boat. We need more information on these people and Daniel Carmine might not be able to give us what we need," said Hoffman. "Give him time to recover and then see what he can tell us, but if he can't tell us what we need then I can't see an alternative to getting boots on the ground."

"It's Aspho Fields," said Anya.

"I know and I don't want to go back there either," said Hoffman. "I'd suggest sending someone else but I doubt Marcus would go for that. And he has been there before."

"Yes, but that was twenty years ago," said Anya.

"More than that," replied Hoffman. "Still, some familiarity is better than none. I know that's not the answer you were hoping for, but sometimes we have to make the difficult decisions. Anyway, it doesn't have to happen soon. See how eager they are to attack boats with Gears protecting them and then you can decide how urgent the problem is."

"Yes, sir," replied Anya. She had to admit that Hoffman was right and she'd been allowing her personal prejudices to get in the way of the right decision. She'd have to make sure she watched that in future and analysed what she did with regard to Marcus. He was her partner, lover, friend and her world, but he was also part of the COG and under her command.

"Okay, so Ostri is a concern. What else has got you worried?" asked Hoffman.

"Where do I start?" she asked. "We investigated one of the lab buildings this morning and it held a few nasty surprises. Chairman Prescott was hiding a lot of things on this island and none of it was good. I need to show you what we found this morning when we investigated a secure lab facility, but for now you'll just have to take my word for this…"

She then gave Hoffman a blow by blow account of how, that morning, they had lost three Gears to one of Prescott's backup plans. Something that ate through hazmat suits, and flesh, and killed in minutes. Hoffman was unhappy. In fact he was about as upset as Anya had ever seen him, which given that she'd been there when the keys had been turned to fire the Hammer of Dawn on their own cities, said something.

"I can't believe it," said Hoffman. "That bastard keeps on screwing us over, even from beyond the grave. We're supposed to have put all that shit behind us. How's Sergeant Brand taking it?"

"Not very well," said Anya. "She's looking for someone to blame and Baird and I were the ones who refused to open the door until we were sure the threat was contained."

"She's a good soldier," said Hoffman, "and Zeta-One have been together since Hollow Storm. Keep an eye on her. She can be a hot head when things don't go her way, but she valued those men."

"Yes, sir. I'm afraid there's more," said Anya. "We also found what can only be described as "artificial wombs". They appeared to be growing a copy of Chairman Prescott. "It" is still down there in the basement of the Embry Laboratory building, along with some kind of founding families tissue bank."

"_Growing_ a copy of Prescott?" asked Hoffman, his face a mixture of shock and distaste.

"That's the only way that I can describe it, sir. I was as shocked as you are."

"And there was a tissue bank?" asked Hoffman.

"It was a cryogenic container that seemed to have tissue samples from several generations of the founding families. It included the Prescott family, the Fenix family, the Embry family and the Baird family," said Anya. "I can only assume that they were planning to use the tissue contained in it to do what they'd done with Chairman Prescott."

"Dear god," said Hoffman. "You're suggesting the AllFathers had some kind of plan for immortality."

"Sort of, or possibly they just wanted to keep their line going. I can't speculate, this really isn't my field," said Anya. "As I said, I think I need to take you down there to show you exactly what he had going on. I swore Lima to secrecy, but we're going to have to decide how we deal with this."

"Us and Lima squad are the only people that know?" asked Hoffman.

Anya nodded.

"Okay, let's keep it that way for the moment," said Hoffman. "I don't like secrets, but if this gets out then we might just have a riot on our hands."

"Yes, sir."

"And Baird? How's he doing? I got your discharge waiver papers for him and signed them," said Hoffman.

"We had words on that, but he came around to our way of thinking," replied Anya. "The epilepsy is a problem, but Hayman has it under control for the moment. We're all hoping that he'll be back in the workshop in a couple of weeks, although he won't ever be able to undertake combat duty again."

"Our loss," said Hoffman, and Anya knew that he meant that. Hoffman and Baird had always had respect for one another, and Hoffman understood how useful Baird's technical skills were. He'd been the one to suggest that he start helping with the effort to collect intelligence on the Locust. "Hopefully none of us will be seeing as much combat now anyway. We'd have been happy to have him back at Anvil Gate, but I guess he'd rather stick with his buddies."

"I'd suggest not letting him know that, sir. We've only just persuaded him to stay and not take the discharge. He's sort of low at the moment, but we're working to pull him through," said Anya. "It's not terribly surprising given his head injury and the complications that it caused. It's probably going to be a few weeks before he's back at work."

"I read about it in the discharge paperwork. As far as I'm concerned, you all seem to think that he's still capable enough to make a contribution, so it's fine with me. If Mathieson can command a garrison with prosthetic legs, then Baird can manage his workshop with a head injury. This is a new world," said Hoffman.

"I agree completely, sir, but it's good to know that you'd say the same thing."

"I assume his accident is why the communication dish is still down?"

"Yes, sir, it's taking a long time to get it wired in and back up on a building where it belongs," said Anya, "but it's still a high priority. Corporal Brennan's a good mechanic, but she's not Baird."

Hoffman met Anya's eyes and knew exactly what she was saying. "Do your best, we need to get that link to the Gorasni up again. I don't want an Azura where we're back to Pendulum War rivalries. We need to get along and getting along requires more communication than a weekly Raven," said Hoffman.

"Understood, sir," said Anya. "If you don't mind me asking, sir, why are you here? You could have got all of this from our weekly reports."

"I know, and I _have_ been reading your reports," said Hoffman. "I came over because I wanted to give you your promotion in person."

Anya blinked and it took her a second to process what she'd just heard. "Promotion?"

"Yes, well, I've been looking at the rank structures and we're short of good officers," said Hoffman. "Congratulations, Captain Stroud."

He handed Anya her insignia of rank, Captains bars, wrought in bronze metal, with the wheel of the COG behind them.

"I don't know what to say," said Anya.

"You deserve it and I wish I could have got around to it sooner, but Anvil Gate's been taking all of my attention," said Hoffman. "Which brings me to another point; you're in charge of Azura, Captain, so you can promote whoever you need to from now on. I don't care what the procedure was in the past. Azura's its own entity and you run it how you like until you hear different."

Anya found herself surprised for the second time in this conversation.

"I'll still expect your reports but I trust you to tie your own shoelaces," said Hoffman.

"Understood, sir," replied Anya. "I hope we live up to your trust in us."

"You'd better," said Hoffman. "Now, I've got some other things to say, but I want to say them to everyone. You said you'd got a meeting with all the senior staff and the rest of Delta scheduled for later today?"

"Yes, sir," replied Anya.

"Then I'll save it until then. In the meantime, why don't you take me on a tour of your mess hall facilities," said Hoffman.

Anya smiled. She should have offered earlier. The Colonel was bound to be hungry after the long flight from Anvil Gate. "Of course, sir."

* * *

After he left the Medical Centre, Marcus had been radioed by Corporal Brennan and asked to come down to the workshop. It wasn't somewhere that he frequented often, especially now that Baird wasn't there. In fact, the workshop without Baird sort of felt wrong, especially since Jack was sat in the same corner that Baird had left him in the night of the storm.

Brennan put down her tools as soon as she saw Marcus enter, and ushered him into Baird's office.

"Sergeant," she said. "I have a problem with KR Eight-Zero."

"What kind of problem?" asked Marcus.

"The kind that you're not going to like. The boss put me on to it. I stopped by his quarters to ask for some advice the other day." She picked up a charred engine part from the desk and handed it to Marcus.

"What's this?" asked Marcus.

"It's KR Eight-Zero's engine control module," said Brennan. "Baird told me to try downloading the software off the chips. It keeps a record of its operation, but he also said to check that it wasn't corrupted. Apparently that can happen if maintenance isn't done correctly, or just through age. I'd gone over everything else and couldn't find any faulty parts or damage that wasn't caused by the fire. Basically, as far as I was concerned, that helicopter shouldn't have gone down, but Gettner's a good pilot, and she said she was having engine trouble."

"Is this going somewhere Corporal, because I'm supposed to be at a meeting in ten with Colonel Hoffman," said Marcus.

"Sorry. Anyway, I'm not an expert, but I can program a bit and I know enough about engine controller software to be able to work out where problems are. The thing is, the software wasn't corrupted. It's been re-written," said Brennan. "Someone did this deliberately, and given the way it was done, it could have been any time over the last few months. I think KR Eight-Zero was sabotaged, Sergeant, and there really aren't that many people left that could do this."

"How many?"

"On Azura? One, and he's the person that told me to look there. Back at Anvil Gate? You'd have to ask Hoffman, but there are some flight engineers left from Sovereign's Raven's nest there. They might know enough about the program to re-write it."

"When did KR Eight-Zero last go in for maintenance?" asked Marcus.

"Choppers get weekly maintenance. The record book's up to date, so it was checked over two weeks ago at Anvil Gate, but we've done the maintenance a few times when it's been due and on Azura," said Brennan. "The boss had the flight engineers write up the check list for us and send it over."

Marcus frowned. "I need to let Lieutenant Stroud and Colonel Hoffman know about this, but keep this to yourself for now. I don't want anyone getting the idea that this was one of our own, because it wasn't. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Sergeant, and I never thought it was. My guess would be that we've got someone in Anvil Gate who isn't who they say they are, for whatever reason makes sense to them in this screwed up world we live in," said Brennan.

"Yeah, and for now that's not a bad theory, but we need proof before accusations start flying," said Marcus, handing the engine control module back to Brennan.

Brennan nodded, turning the module over in her hands. "I need the boss to look at this. He'd be able to dig into the programming better and see when the changes were made. Any idea when he's going to be up to it?"

Marcus shrugged. "He's still sleeping a lot and Hayman wants him to be careful about working too hard until his brain has had a chance to heal. Resting's supposed to help with the head injury. But Baird's looking bored, which probably means he's going to be down here in a few days for at least an hour here and there. How you deal with that's up to you, you're in charge until he's declared fit for duty."

Brennan smirked. "You say that like it's true. This is his workshop; we're all just exercising squatters rights. He's the one that set it up and scrounged up all the equipment. And I'm not sure he's going to be happy with what we've been up to."

"He'll just have to live with it. You're doing the best you can," said Marcus. "I'll update you on our investigation as we go."

Marcus left Brennan to get back to her never-ending schedule of repairs.

* * *

Cole and Sam pushed Baird in his wheelchair down to Ops for the Delta meeting with Hoffman. Anya had called in the Senior Staff, including their building engineer, Corporal Amy Sakuri, Doctor Hayman, the rest of Delta Squad, and Dizzy Wallin. Even Clay Carmine turned up, leaving his brother's bedside for the first time in days. He looked nervous and wasn't enthusiastic to stay long, which didn't surprise anyone. Pneumonia was serious and this case was exacerbated by Daniel's generally weakened condition after being a slave for several months. Carmine said that Hayman thought he was improving, but she wasn't promising anything for the moment.

Marcus was slightly late arriving and Cole witnessed him having a rapid and quiet conversation with Anya. She looked worried and there was something like disappointment in her eyes. Something was going on, but Cole would find out about it if he needed to.

Hoffman greeted everyone with friendly enthusiasm. They hadn't seen the Colonel for many months and it was always good to hear how things were going at Anvil Gate, especially after a long communication break. It would have been an extremely happy occasion but for the loss of three Gears that morning, which was clearly affecting everyone's spirits. They stood around Anya's large office chatting, and Baird insisted on using his crutch rather than the wheelchair, despite Sam and Cole's clear disapproval.

"You didn't bring Granny with you?" said Baird to Hoffman. Cole detected slight disappointment in his tone. Baird and Bernie were friends, despite his rather derogatory nickname for Hoffman's partner. Cole doubted that they'd been in contact since the communications array went down. Neither of them were big on letter writing, and Baird even less so now.

"She wanted to come, but Lieutenant Mathieson needed her more than I did," said Hoffman. "He's still kind of new at running Anvil Gate, and there was a big farmers meeting this week. They all respect Bernie's opinion on that stuff. She says she'll catch the Raven over when the harvest is looking more secure."

Baird brightened at that, and gave a small nod, which as usual almost caused him to overbalance sideways. Cole unobtrusively steadied him with a hand to the shoulder. The dizziness was better than it had been but still bothered Baird a lot.

"You okay, son?" asked Hoffman.

"Yeah, I just get dizzy if I move my head too quickly sometimes. It's the head injury. Hayman thinks it'll get better given some time. Fingers crossed," replied Baird. Cole noted that he didn't sound that convinced by his own words.

"You have my sympathies. I've had my share of war wounds and recovery time," said Hoffman. "You'll get there."

"Yeah, maybe," said Baird. Cole kind of felt for his friend in that moment, because even Hayman couldn't be certain that anything caused by the head injury would ever get better. The brain was difficult and the doctors barely understood how it worked, let alone how it healed.

"How's the thrashball team coming?" Hoffman asked, turning to Cole.

"I've got some good players. If I can just get them to understand the tactics then we'll be firing on all pistons," said Cole.

"I look forward to the first match against the Anvil Gate team," said Hoffman.

"Yeah, we should get that together soon," said Cole.

Anya came over. "Sir, we should probably get your announcement over. Carmine wants to get back to his brother, and Baird's not supposed to be on his feet too long." She glanced towards Hayman and the implication that the doctor was unhappy with her patient was clear.

Baird rolled his eyes. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are," said Cole. If Baird wanted another lecture from Hayman then he was going the right way to get it.

"I guess we'd best do this thing then," said Hoffman.

Anya shouted for everyone's attention, and the assembled Gears gathered round, standing at parade rest, or as near as they could get to it in Baird's case.

Hoffman gave a cough. "Well, you all know that I don't do speeches, so I'm going to lay this on the line. We've been muddling along with a command structure that's left over from a different world. So I've decided to change that. I've just promoted Lieutenant Stroud to Captain. I've also given her the authority to promote who she needs to on Azura. I hope you'll all join me in congratulating her."

Anya smiled in a slightly overwhelmed way, as people murmured their congratulations. Cole noticed the huge smile of pride that Marcus gave her.

"That's not all that I have to say though. The Coalition of Ordered Governments was never supposed to be governed by martial law indefinitely. I know we're not exactly a state anymore, but I still believe in the statutes of the Octus Canon. Therefore I'm setting out a timeline for returning us to a democratic system of government. My plan is for that to happen in Bloom next year, assuming that the harvest is good and we've got enough breathing room to allow proper campaigning and free elections. There's some work to be done on the structure of government, but we'll be a democracy again."

"I've been under some pressure from some elements at Anvegad to take the title Chairman," Hoffman continued. "Well that isn't going to happen, because I'm not a politician. I was operating a triumvirate with Michaelson and Trescu, but that fell apart when we lost our satellite communications, and with the death of Captain Michaelson. So we need something new to bridge the gap between then and fair elections."

"For the moment I'm going to reinstate the triumvirate. We're back in touch with the Gorasni and Trescu is a reasonable man. I want us to be friends with the Gorasni, and that means giving them a say in our future plans. That leaves us with a third seat to fill, and I want Captain Stroud to join us."

Everyone heard the sharp intake of breath that Anya took. It looked like the Colonel hadn't informed her of his decision and this was the first she was hearing of it.

"Me? I'm a Lieutenant… I mean I was a Lieutenant until a couple of hours ago," said Anya. Then she seemed to change tack. "But I suppose I am in charge of the second largest concentration of COG personnel."

"Exactly," said Hoffman. "I think we've had enough old men deciding the fate of this planet, so I think it's time for a change."

"I'd be honoured, sir," said Anya.

"I'd hoped you were going to say that," said Hoffman.

Cole was grinning, as were the rest of the assembled Gears. Even Baird looked as if he might actually agree with Hoffman's choice. He also looked like he was ready to drop. Cole sighed inwardly. Baird's unwillingness to appear weak in front of his friends was getting to be a real problem. Pushing himself to breaking point wouldn't help his recovery.

When all the speeches were over, Cole made sure that he got Baird by himself for a moment.

"You look like shit," said Cole, failing to see the point of not being blunt. Baird didn't really understand anything else anyway.

"Yeah, well, I've had a bitch of a day and it's not even dinner time," replied Baird.

"You need to sit down," said Cole. "Otherwise I'm going to be picking your ass up off the floor."

Baird shook his head. "The Colonel…" he began.

"Doesn't give a shit whether you're standing or sitting," said Cole, before Baird could even finish his sentence.

Baird's shoulders dropped in defeat, and Cole felt like he was being the bad guy here, even though he was doing this to help Baird.

"Fine, get the stupid wheelchair," said Baird.

Cole complied and quickly. He got Baird sat down and then took the crutch from him, which was when he noticed there was blood on the hand grip.

"Are you bleeding?" asked Cole.

"Blisters," said Baird, showing Cole his right hand palm. It had several angry looking red blisters on it, one of which had burst and left raw skin behind. "I need to get something to cushion the grip or start wearing gloves. I haven't used the crutch a lot until today."

"Yeah, well tomorrow you might not get to use it at all," replied Cole.

"You're going to withdraw crutch privileges from a crippled epileptic? I think there's something in the Adena Convention about that," said Baird.

"Yeah, it says that people who don't take care of themselves, are of unsound mind and need someone to make decisions for them," said Cole. "You're just lucky that you've got the Cole Train to do that for you, baby."

"Yeah, it's fucking fantastic. I always wanted my own Thrashball star to do my bidding," Baird replied, dryly. "Did you notice Marcus come in late looking all serious?"

"Yup," said Cole.

"Any idea what that chat with Anya was about?" asked Baird.

"Nope, and you shouldn't worry that pretty head of yours about it either. If we need to know then they'll tell us," said Cole. "Come on, I think you've had enough for one day. If I don't get you back to your quarters, Hayman will have my hide."

"Yeah, she's been giving me the death glare since I walked in," said Baird.

"That would be because she told you to rest," said Cole. He waved at Sam, who made her way over to them.

"Are you heading on?" she asked.

"Yeah, he'll turn into a pumpkin if I keep him out any longer," said Cole.

Sam smirked, and Baird scowled, which had sort of been the desired response.

"Anya wants me to talk to Hoffman about what happened in the lab this morning, so I'll come over when that's done," said Sam.

Cole nodded. He got the impression that Sam wasn't telling them something, but he wasn't sure what it could be.

"Have fun," said Baird. "Nothing like reliving the deaths of fellow Gears to brighten one's day. Prescott's basement of horrors was something that we could have done without. That man was a total asshole."

Sam looked like she was about to say something in reply, but instead she dipped her head in a sort of agreement. She mumbled a farewell and left to go back towards Anya.

"Okay, that was weird," said Baird.

"Yeah, there's something going on. I have a feeling that we didn't get told about everything that Lima found down in that basement."

"Oh good, because the stuff we already know about wasn't awful enough," said Baird, as Cole began to push him towards the exit.


	12. Chapter 12

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Thanks reviewers, followers and readers for all your fantastic feedback and messages. We're about to enter the month of November when I traditionally attempt NaNoWriMo with varying levels of success. This does mean that fanfic writing is put on hold for a bit, so updates may be slow to non-existent. Normal service will resume once NaNo is over, one way or another.

* * *

Anya was having possibly the worst and best day of her life all rolled into one. She'd lost three Gears this morning, found a lab full of horrors, just discovered that a Raven had probably been sabotaged by someone from within their own people. But she'd also been promoted and offered the third seat in the triumvirate.

After everyone drifted away, with Carmine leaving first and Baird being escorted away by Cole early on, she asked Sam to stay so that she could give Hoffman and Doctor Hayman her perspective on what she'd found in the lab. They closed the doors to her office and talked quietly so as not to be overheard. Hayman was as surprised as Anya herself had been, but then seemed to absorb the information and start to formulate reasons for why there was a "spare" Chairman Prescott in the basement.

"What I want to know is why he'd do this?" asked Hoffman. "Clone himself? Even for Prescott it's despicable."

"Perhaps he thought we'd need him as a figurehead," said Anya. "Without a leader the COG might have collapsed. It sort of did once he left and we evacuated Vectes. We're still COG in name only at the moment, even if we're working hard to change that."

Hayman just shrugged. "Who knows why he did it? Perhaps it all comes down to a belief that the Allfathers were our leaders by right and not just by accident of birth. There's always been an element who believed that genetics played as much a part as personality when it came to founding the Coalition."

"You're saying that they thought they were superior stock?" asked Hoffman, in a distinctly unimpressed tone.

"Yes, why not put it in those terms? I expect they did think of themselves as the best of humanity. They may even have seen the population of Sera as stock to be bred for the best results," said Hayman.

"So that's what the tissue bank was for?" asked Sam. "They were preserving what they considered to be the best genetics?"

"I imagine so. I mean look at the specimens that those families produced. Adam Fenix, a certifiable genius, Richard Prescott, Chairman of the COG…" said Hayman. "Professor Jessica Monroe was stationed on this very island, working on cutting edge biochemistry research. Sergeant Fenix is the hero who saved Sera, and at his side was Corporal Baird, who we know is probably also a genius level intelligence. Imagine what would have happened if he'd actually been allowed to complete his education."

Sam looked a little taken aback. "Baird's smart, but he's not really a genius, is he? I thought that was just you guys teasing him." She looked at Anya in slight disbelief.

"I saw his personnel file when he was assigned to Alpha squad for the mission to deploy the resonator," said Anya. "His IQ tested off the scale when he joined up. They wanted him to join the engineers, and he'd probably have ended up in R and D, but he refused and was put in the 4th Ephyra Light Infantry. At the time, we needed every soldier we could get. His familiarity with the technology was one of the reasons he was chosen for the resonator mission."

"Okay, so the founding families were prime examples of humanity. Good for them," said Hoffman, cynically. "The more pressing question is: what do we do with the tissue bank and the clone? I'd like some opinions before I make a judgement call."

"If we wake up the clone, assuming that we can, what kind of memory is he going to have? Is he going to be Chairman Richard Prescott? Or is he just a fully grown man with no memory of who he is or could be?" asked Anya.

"I have no idea until I can look at the systems, and to be honest, I could use the help of Corporal Baird to do it," said Hayman.

Hoffman was already shaking his head. "I don't want Baird or Fenix anywhere near this problem. Whatever we do, the decision has to be completely above reproach, which means we keep anyone with a vested interest in what we decide out of it."

"Sir, Marcus and I are together," said Anya. "That probably means I shouldn't be involved in any decisions regarding the tissue bank."

"You have a point, and I'd accept you stepping back on that, but I'm more concerned about the clone," said Hoffman. "And I don't want this to be a decision that I make alone."

"My vote would be to burn it all," said Sam. "Baird and Marcus would be as disgusted as we are by all this. And we don't need another Chairman Prescott."

"Everything Prescott did, he did because he was trying to find a way to defeat the Locust and the Lambent," said Hoffman. "I can't believe that I'm saying this, but he thought it would save more humans, and I can't fault him for trying to do that. I _can_ fault his methods, and how he went about doing it, but it's not as simple as saying that he was a bad man and what he did was wrong."

"Also I'm not sure that we aren't talking about murder," said Anya. "That clone is alive."

"Yes, but is it human?" asked Hayman.

"It looks human," said Sam.

"Looks can be deceiving," replied Hayman. "If it has no cognition and awareness then it's just a collection of cells."

"This isn't the kind of debate that they prepared me for in officer training," said Anya.

"I don't think it's the kind of debate that they prepare anyone for," said Hayman.

"We're not killing it," said Hoffman. "Him. If he's alive, then we won't kill him. I won't sully our new administration with an unnecessary death. There's been enough of that."

"Well, we can't just leave it down there either," said Hayman.

"I'm aware of that," said Hoffman. "I'm not making any decisions until Doctor Hayman has assessed what's down there and reported back. At that point we'll discuss it again. For now, we'll continue to treat this as classified information and no one is to say anything about it outside of this group. Especially to Fenix and Baird, and I don't care how valuable their input might be. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," chorused the other members of the group.

"I'm sure we've all got places to be, so you're all dismissed for now," said Hoffman.

Sam gave Anya a nod and she headed out of the office with Hayman a couple of steps behind her.

"Sir, I have another matter to bring to your attention," said Anya, closing the door once again. "Corporal Brennan had a meeting with Marcus earlier this afternoon, during which she brought it to his attention that KR Eight-Zero may have been sabotaged."

"Sabotaged?" asked Hoffman. "How and why would anyone sabotage one of our Ravens?"

"I don't know, sir, but Corporal Brennan indicated that it was a software problem. Apparently someone had altered the engine controller software, which led to its crash," said Anya. "She wasn't sure when it was done and it could have happened several months ago. The thing is that there aren't very many people who could actually rewrite the software. Baird is one and apparently he suggested to Brennan that she should check out the software, but the main Raven maintenance teams are in Anvil Gate."

"So you're asking if I know of anyone in Anvil Gate who could rewrite the software and has a reason to crash a chopper?" asked Hoffman, immediately seeing what Anya was getting at.

"Yes, sir," said Anya. "Brennan thought we might even have some kind of spy in our midst. I'm wondering if we've got someone pretending to be someone that they're not, but given everything that we've been through, I'm finding it hard to understand what the motivation would be for that."

"I'll send Bernie a message on the next Raven to Anvil Gate and she can start an investigation," said Hoffman. "Who knows what grudges people are still holding? I'd like to hope that we can put all the old rivalries behind us, but unfortunately I've seen men do stupid things for petty vengeance before now. I expect I will again too."

"Yes, sir," replied Anya.

She too had seen it all before. Gorasni who refused to believe that the war was over, Pellesians who would rather let the COG fall than help fight the Locust, Stranded who would spit in the faces of Gears who handed them food… The problem was that, if Brennan was right, there was someone in their ranks who had fooled them and was now working against them. It gave Anya an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach, to know that someone they worked with was a traitor, and she needed to get to this bottom of this. The betrayal of their fragile nation was unforgivable at a time when they should all be pulling together and every resource was precious. She preferred not to think about it for too long, but it was her job to protect Azura and that extended beyond just making sure that people were fed, sheltered and clothed. Even in peace, she might still have to pick up her lancer and fight for what she believed in.

* * *

Sam arrived at Baird's quarters after leaving Anya and Hoffman to find him arguing with Cole.

"Go and do your stupid Thrashball practice," said Baird, from his usual spot on the sofa. "You always do it on Octusday. Look, Sam's here, so I don't even need you to babysit. Hayman's just being overcautious anyway."

"I'd rather stay here and make sure that you're doing okay," said Cole. "That seizure was a bad one."

"Yeah, and it was this morning," said Baird. "I'll go to bed early and I'll be fine tomorrow."

"Go on, Cole," said Sam. "We'll be fine. You've missed enough practices lately."

Baird's eyes narrowed. "You've been blowing off Thrashball practice? Shit, Cole, Anvil Gate are going to kick our asses when we play them next month."

"Now, now," said Cole. "Don't you be saying things like that. Azura's got the Cole Train and nothing stops The Train."

"Go on then," said Baird. "Get the hell out of my quarters and get down to practice. Those players won't run drills themselves. Or do whatever else it is that you guys get up to…"

"Not really a ball player were you?" asked Sam, with a smile.

"Run around a pitch chasing a ball when I could be inside building another robot? No contest," said Baird.

Cole sighed. "Well, as long as Sam's going to be here, I guess it's okay."

Sam knew that Baird had the victory and Cole was going to practice.

"It's not like I can get up to much trouble when you've taken my crutch anyway," said Baird.

"You took his crutch away?" asked Sam.

Cole rolled his eyes. "He used it so much that he's got blisters. I'll grab him some gloves from the stores and it'll be fine, but he should lay off it tonight."

"And how am I supposed to get around?" asked Baird, pitifully.

"Lean on Sam," said Cole with a smirk, and a meaningful look. With that he headed out the door.

"Did I miss something?" asked Sam.

"Just Cole going insane," said Baird, resting his head back against the sofa cushions for a moment. He looked over at Sam with a more serious expression on his face. "Has he been to Thrashball practice since my accident?"

Sam shook her head. "I think he lost his enthusiasm for it while you were in the Med Centre, and this last week you've sort of needed him. Don't worry, he'll get back into it in no time."

Baird was frowning though. "He shouldn't be hanging around here so much. None of you should. I can take care of myself. This is all so much bullshit."

Sam's own expression darkened with concern, and she moved closer to Baird. "It's only for a day. Hayman said twenty four hours."

"It's been weeks, Sam. Cole's been looking after me for weeks, and so have you, Marcus, Anya, Jace, and Carmine," said Baird. "Even when I refused to see anyone, Cole turned up every day to see if I'd changed my mind."

"Yeah, because he's your friend," said Sam. "That's what friends do. Have you eaten yet?"

Baird shook his head, then automatically put out a hand to steady himself against the dizziness it usually caused. "Not hungry."

"Oh come on, you didn't get lunch because you were in the Med Centre. Didn't Hayman say something about regular meals?"

"I don't give a fuck," said Baird. "I said I'm not hungry."

"What's got you in such a bad mood?" asked Sam.

"Do you really have to ask? Three Gears died today, Sam."

"Yeah, and it could have been a lot more," said Sam. "By our standards, this was a good day. Both of us have had days when we've lost more. You lost your entire squad, except Cole, in the Hollow. The COG lost hundreds of Gears every single day when we were fighting the Locust and the Lambent."

"That was when we were at war. We're not supposed to still be losing people," said Baird, angrily. "This is Hoffman's brave new world, but we're still all tied to the old one by all this… crap."

Guilt about keeping things from Baird was burning in the back of her mind, but Anya had been very clear about not saying anything. She even agreed with her reasons. That didn't make it any less hard to keep the secret though. She had to push it aside, so she concentrated on the things that she could help with instead. Sam headed for the kitchen.

She found some crackers and peanut butter. She would have offered to take him down to the mess hall but she doubted that he was in the mood for seeing that many people. Hayman had suggested the peanut butter as something to keep in Baird's kitchen because it was high in energy, and Baird really needed to put on some weight. He hadn't been eating properly since he'd gotten out of the Med Centre and Sam was beginning to think it was more than just getting his appetite back after being in a coma.

"You can't expect everything to get better in a few months. It's going to take time to put our society back together," said Sam.

She put the crackers on the plate and poured fruit juice into a glass. Then she put it all on a tray and took them over to Baird.

"Eat," said Sam.

"I'm still not hungry," said Baird.

"I don't care," said Sam. "You're not eating enough. At least drink the fruit juice."

Baird just gave Sam an annoyed look. He picked up the glass of juice and drank.

"Happy?" he asked as he put the glass down again.

"No, now eat the stupid crackers."

"Anything to get you to shut up," replied Baird, taking a small bite of a cracker.

"Did you take your pills?" asked Sam, with the mentality of in for a penny, in for pound.

"Yes, Cole made me take them when we got back," said Baird.

"He shouldn't have to _make_ you take them. You're in pain so take the damn pills," said Sam. "The better you sleep the less likely you are to have a breakthrough seizure."

"I know," said Baird, and then added a little more quietly, "I know." He leaned against the sofa on his good side.

Sam flopped down in the chair beside the couch. "It's been a tough day, for both of us."

"I killed three people today. How many did you kill?"

"You didn't kill them," said Sam, understanding flickering in her brain.

"Alex Brand thinks I did," said Baird.

"Then she's an idiot," said Sam.

"Finally, something we can agree on," said Baird. "She already hated my guts so I guess it's not going to make much difference. Apart from the fact there's three more dead Gears. But hey we should all be happy because Anya got promoted to Captain. I really wish I was allowed to drink alcohol so that I could toast that properly. Or at least get drunk and forget this day happened."

"That would definitely solve the problem," replied Sam, sarcastically. "You could just be pleased for Anya."

"Excuse me for not being all sunshine and rainbows about some meaningless promotion. The COG is us, Anvil Gate and a handful of Gorasni. We're only calling ourselves the COG because it's force of habit," replied Baird.

"We're working with what we've got, Baird. Just because the world is fucked up doesn't mean we can't start fixing it and occasionally celebrate something good happening," said Sam, with exasperation.

Baird was really in a dark mood tonight, but that was hardly surprising. She wasn't exactly happy herself, she'd known Zeta-One pretty well. On top of that she now had to keep everything else that they'd found in the basement a secret from the man opposite her, when she could have done with someone to talk to.

Baird shook his head and sighed.

"Okay, okay, she deserves the promotion and for once they actually promoted the right person. I'm just… tired. I'm always tired," said Baird. "Maybe I should just go to bed."

"It's 8pm," said Sam.

"I had a seizure today and it wiped me out, so like you said, I really need the sleep," said Baird. "And I want to go down to the workshop tomorrow. There are some things that I need to collect from my office. They're going to need help working out how to get rid of the bioweapons in the basement and checking out the nuclear reactor. And because I've got the energy of a 5 watt light bulb at the moment, that'll probably be my entire day planned out between naps and physio."

"I could pop in and get them for you. Maybe you should just rest tomorrow. You know Hayman said resting was the best thing you could do at the moment," said Sam.

"Yeah, I so need to spend more time in my quarters," said Baird, with obvious sarcasm.

"Then why don't I take you out for a picnic lunch somewhere," said Sam. "We're living in an island paradise, we should make the most of that."

"You're joking," said Baird. "We're Gears. Picnics are for kids and teddy bears."

"We're human beings. Picnics are for human beings who happen to like eating lunch in the fresh air."

Baird sighed. "Is this one of those things where you nag me until I do it?"

"Yes," said Sam. Then she had a brain wave. "Besides, I've got the perfect spot."

"Fine, we'll go on your stupid picnic," said Baird. "I'll at least have some entertainment from just watching you trying to get me anywhere on this island in my chair."

Sam smiled. "I love a challenge. Anyway, give me a list of stuff and I'll go by the workshop in the morning and pick it up."

Baird grabbed a scrap of paper and a pencil and began the very slow process of writing. It took him a while to make the letters, but Sam wasn't going to intervene. Baird didn't want her help, and he was still eating bites of the crackers in between words. This was a small step in the right direction as far as Sam was concerned, but the things that Baird had said tonight worried her. He was so negative about everything, and even the good things that happened he seemed determined to turn into bad things. Then again, he was right, it had been a bad day. Maybe things would seem better in the morning and he'd be able to get more perspective.

* * *

Morning on Azura was beautiful and nothing could take that away from the island. The fact that it had more terrible, horrible things lurking in its buildings than probably any other place on the entirety of Sera didn't factor into the way the rising sun hit the water at just the right angle, or spoil the delightfully melodious light chirping of tropical birds that filled the air. If Hoffman hadn't been about to spend his day making some very difficult decisions then he might have enjoyed the break of day on the COG's second largest outpost.

Hoffman hated surprises and Azura had nothing but at the moment. He'd finally persuaded Anya that he had to see the Prescott clone for himself. She hadn't been entirely happy at letting the current leader of the COG go down to an area where three Gears had died the previous day, but he'd persuaded her that it had to be done. She'd been advocating taking a camera into the basement and getting some pictures, but he didn't like the idea of making evidence of what was down there. He had to see this with his own eyes. So he and Hayman had gone down to the basement of the Embry Labs.

Anya had remained upstairs to work the computers, and although she didn't have Baird's expertise she was able to use the backdoors that he'd already created to work the elevator and doors. Hoffman had briefly glanced into the labs where three Gears had lost their lives and seen their bodies, still lying where they had fallen until a way of safely disposing of the bodies could be worked out.

"I'm beginning to think Byrne was right," said Hoffman. "We should just burn this place."

"Fire might not be enough to kill it," said the Doctor.

"That is not what I wanted to hear," said Hoffman. "I thought this island had run out unpleasant discoveries for us."

"Baird identified a number of other buildings that had things about them which he'd designated as "interesting"," said Hayman. "I doubt Azura is out of surprises yet."

"Open the airlock, Captain," said Hoffman, into his com.

"Yes, sir," said Anya. "It takes several minutes to cycle, and make sure you check the seals on your suits."

"Understood," replied Hoffman. They donned the suits, double checked each other's seals and then got ready to enter the lab. The door swung open and revealed an area which could have been any secure lab on the planet, but this one currently held something special.

"I'll start by trying to access the computer," said Hayman. "I know a bit about the standard medical systems, so hopefully I can get far enough without help from someone of a technical mind-set."

The elderly doctor headed for the nearest terminal and began typing. They'd already established at the previous visit that there was still power down here, so it wasn't at all surprising that the computers still worked.

"If it's any help, Baird said that the password up here was obvious," said Anya.

"Yes, this one is too," said Hayman. "It's Labtwo, no space between the words. I'm in."

Hoffman walked down the lab, towards the end where Anya had said he could find what he'd come to see. He moved carefully because there was broken glass here and he didn't want to snag his hazmat suit. Hayman seemed to think that there was nothing actually contagious in this lab, more that the protection was for the specimens, clones, within, but he wasn't going to take any chances. He made it to the end of the long line of glass pillars that held things that almost made him want to vomit right there, and stopped.

At the end of the line, he came face to face with the visage of a man that he'd thought was dead, but this wasn't as he had been when he'd last seen him. This was a younger man, in his teens or perhaps early twenties. It was definitely Prescott though, and the tube which the clone was in was intact. He stood looking at the man in front of him for some time, studying the face for the slightest indication that this thing wasn't really made of flesh and blood. Unfortunately, he couldn't see anything that suggested that it wasn't a human being, albeit one suspended in some strange pink fluid.

Hayman walked down the row behind him. "It's, sorry," she corrected herself, "_he_'s alive. The life support systems are functional, as they are for some of the other intact, empty tubes. I think I can awaken him."

"Any indication of whether he knows who he is?" asked Hoffman.

"There does seem to be a mechanism for transferring thought patterns, but it appears to be damaged and I honestly can't say how much of it is or was working," said the doctor.

"So we don't know if he remembers anything of who he is?" asked Hoffman.

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Hayman. "There's more though. This project, the clone and the tissue bank, is the culmination of a vast research project that began not long after the founding of the COG."

"What are you talking about, Doctor?" asked Hoffman.

"The Allfathers that we so revere, were the original instigators. It was called Project Regeneration. Its aim, from my very brief reading of the files, was to produce perfect genetic specimens who would rule over the COG. There were a lot of failed experiments, but eventually it reached a stage where they were happy to put it into practice," said Hayman.

"You haven't said what it was that they did."

"They manipulated the genes of their offspring," said Hayman. "They created children that were smarter and physically better than their peers. And the traits were passed down from father to son, mother to daughter."

"You're saying that the Allfathers engineered their own children to be perfect?" asked Hoffman.

"Well, perhaps not perfect but definitely enhanced, and you could say that the experiment is ongoing. They continued to monitor the family lines, and we have three of its products on this island. Many generations removed from the first instance of the experiment, but still part of it. Prescott, Fenix and Baird are the fruit of that genetic manipulation."

"Doc, are you really telling me that Marcus Fenix and Damon Baird are genetically engineered?" asked Hoffman.

"No, their grandparents were, they simply had the genes passed down to them," said Hayman. "I imagine that once the Pendulum Wars began to drain resources, there were more pressing things to research, so the experiment had to concentrate on the cloning process."

"I don't think I can take any more bizarre revelations about this place," said Hoffman.

"Unfortunately, there is one more. The Prescott clone in the tank isn't the first one that's been grown. That one is only about six months old, created with accelerated growth hormones, but now in stasis. There was another one, birthed about thirteen months before that. That was because the previous Prescott died on his way to Azura from Vectes."

"So the Prescott who landed on the Sovereign, the one who bled out and died, was already a clone?"

"That's my reading of the most recent documentation, yes," said Hayman.

"Damn that man," said Hoffman.

"I need more time to read the files. There's a lot of information in them and it goes back many years. So far I've just read a few summaries."

"I'm not surprised by that at least," said Hoffman. "What about the rest of these tubes? Are they more Prescott clones?"

"None of them are still functional. There was another Prescott clone in the early stages of growth, but the rest… at least one of those broken tubes is a foetus that could have become Nassar Embry, and there were plans to clone everyone in that tissue bank," said Hayman. "Next on the list was Adam Fenix."

"Destroy it," said Hoffman. His tone was flat and signalled his intention to wash his hands of this project. He regarded it as evil, almost as bad as the things that Delta had found at New Hope.

"I assume you're talking about the tissue bank? Is than an order?"

"Yes, the tissue bank," said Hoffman, crossly. "I am done with this. I won't kill a grown man, clone or not, but I'm not going to leave this technology lying around for others to find. What they were planning to do amounts to theft. They were going to steal our ability to decide for ourselves who leads us. They were planning to give Sera to the founding fathers and their descendants forever. Well, from where I'm standing, they didn't do such a great job the first time around."

"You do realise that you're destroying something that could lead to huge medical advances? Cloning whole people is actually of far less interest than simply cloning organs to replace those that wear out," said Hayman.

Hoffman was already shaking his head. "We can barely keep ourselves clothed and fed. We're many years from being able to use anything in this lab. We'll keep the files, but the tissue bank has to go. That was the old Sera, and that's gone now, along with all the crimes that they committed in the name of stability and maintaining the COG. Now, tell me how we destroy it."

"We just need to turn off the cryogenic storage, but we should probably also heat the samples to be on the safe side," said Hayman, indicating the cryogenic storage device that held the tissue bank.

Hoffman walked over to it and very deliberately disconnected the cables that fed into it, one at a time. There was no guilt here. These people had already had their chance at life and he wasn't killing them. He was merely denying them their chance for immortality. The lights on the container dimmed, the power dying and fading away as Sera's founding families lost their final chance to come back from the annals of history.

"And Prescott?" asked Hayman, who had watched him do all this without a flicker of reproach.

"Start looking into waking him up. Whatever he remembers, we'll deal with it," said Hoffman.

Hayman nodded and went back to the computer. She had the easy part in this, she could offer advice but the final decision rested with Hoffman. He was also the one who would now have to tell Anya and the others what he'd done.

* * *

Baird had awoken from another bad night's sleep to find Sam lying next to him in his bed. He was groggy at first and it took him a moment to fully understand why she was in his bed. She was fully clothed and not even under the same blankets as he was under, so there was nothing inappropriate about it. It slightly worried him that he was actually thinking that he might want Sam to be "inappropriate" with him. He really didn't understand where that was coming from, but it seemed to be something he increasingly felt when he was near her despite their continued arguing.

He'd gone to sleep early, but he'd been dead tired so he should have slept until morning. Instead, he'd spent the night being awoken by bad dreams, and every time he awoke Sam was there checking on him. He guessed that she'd finally given up and just slept on the bed beside him. The large four-poster was big enough for two.

He'd spent several minutes just looking at her, before he decided that was kind of creepy and instead turned his attention to the birds circling outside his window and the sun coming up. He must have drifted off to sleep again at some point after that because when he awoke again, Sam was gone and he could hear someone moving around in the lounge. The sun was well and truly up, suggesting it was into mid-morning. His crutch was back at the side of his bed, and there was a pair of fingerless gloves sat on his bedside table. He smiled, because even a single crutch was better than hopping around on just his good leg.

He set about the long process of getting himself upright without inducing a dizzy spell (gentle motion, nothing too fast, nothing too sudden), and headed for the shower, only wincing slightly as he put his blistered palm into the glove. The layer of cloth did help with the crutch, though and he successfully got to the bathroom without pain or incident. He showered, and then tried as best he could to clean his leg frame without Sam's help, because he didn't want to disturb her again after the previous night's lack of sleep. He dressed, and then made it out into the lounge to see… Cole.

"Where's Sam?" asked Baird. As soon as he heard the words, he wished that his brain was better at not blurting out the first thing that came into his mind. There was definite disappointment in his tone, and Cole instantly picked up on it.

Cole grinned from ear to ear. "Don't worry, she'll be back soon. She took your list of stuff you wanted from the workshop and headed down there. She also told me about your picnic plans."

"What about it?" asked Baird, regarding his friend with annoyance.

"You and Sam are going on a _picnic_, baby," said Cole, still amused.

"Relax, it's just to get me out of here for a while. The walls are beginning to close in a bit," said Baird. "It was sort of the same reason that I dragged you and Marcus out to the lab of doom yesterday."

Cole's expression changed from teasing to concerned. "Are you okay? Sam said you had another rough night."

"Yeah, I'm fine. They're just bad dreams," said Baird, running a hand through his hair.

"Locust prison?" asked Cole.

He was the only person whom Baird had ever told about the contents of his nightmares. Likewise, Baird knew that when Cole woke in the night, it was probably because he was dreaming about his parents being killed by the Locust.

Baird nodded, reluctantly. "Like I said, just bad dreams. Anyway, I'm fed up with sitting around doing nothing but reading blueprints."

The door opened and Sam came in with a box in her hands.

"Hey there," said Cole, smiling at the new arrival.

Sam didn't look happy to see them. She dropped the box on the nearest surface and took a book out. She slammed it into Baird's chest, almost knocking him off his feet, but he hopped back and stayed on his one good foot.

"When were you going to tell us?"

He looked down at the book that Sam had shoved at him and he'd instinctively taken with his left hand. "Non-Clinical Management of Depression" was the title. Baird couldn't read it, but he easily recognised it and was familiar with the contents.

"Oh," said Baird.

Cole grabbed the book from Baird before he could stop him.

"Depression? You haven't been back to your office since the accident. This was before the accident?" asked Cole. Baird could see that he wasn't pleased by this revelation.

Baird limped to the couch, he couldn't deal with standing and defending himself from his rather angry looking friends. "It was just Hayman playing psychiatrist."

"The hell it was," said Cole, angry now.

"She wouldn't have given you that unless you needed it," said Sam. "She doesn't lend out her medical books to just anyone."

"I don't want to talk about this," said Baird.

"Tough. Depression is serious, Baird," said Sam. "I have to ask. When you fell, was it really an accident?"

"What?!" asked Baird, in total disbelief. "You think I was trying to kill myself?"

"I honestly don't know," said Sam, "because you never talk about how you're feeling."

"No, I wasn't trying to kill myself. I wasn't suicidal, I was just unlucky. Ask Marcus." Baird looked Sam in the eye as he said this, trying to make it clear that he was being completely open with her. He needed her to believe him, although he really wasn't sure why her opinion suddenly mattered to him.

"Why didn't you say something? I knew you'd been to see Hayman," said Cole.

"You're kidding me," said Baird. "Me being sad was so far down our list of problems. I mean half the island are screwed up with PTSD or something. I was dealing with it."

"You really weren't," said Cole.

"You're an idiot," said Sam. "You should have said something. We'd have helped."

"Really? No one talks about this stuff. No one discusses that we all have nightmares, or that we reach for our guns at the slightest sound, or that we all have flashbacks, or even that we lost hundreds of our friends and family. We just carry on." Baird gestured with his good arm out towards the island. "So what if fixing stuff in the workshop feels pointless? That's a drop in the ocean compared to the families and Gears that have died. You really wanted me to say "hey guys, I don't feel like getting up in the morning to fix stuff" because even to me, that sounds lame."

"How about, "I feel like I'd rather be dead"? I've known Gears with depression, Baird, and I've seen them put their lancers to their heads and end it," said Sam. "It's not rational, but people still die from it."

Cole was nodding, and flicking through the pages of the book. "She's right, but we're here for you, baby. And you need the stuff in this book."

Baird frowned. This was all making him feel kind of uncomfortable, but he probably did need help. He'd been down before, and the injury had just given him more to worry about. He couldn't get through the next few months without support, no matter how much he hated the idea or thought that he shouldn't need it.

"I did read it and mostly it's all "think happy thoughts" and "be positive". That's kind of hard when you've recently fallen off a building and have post-traumatic epilepsy, a broken arm and a broken leg."

"I know, baby, but that's why we're hanging around," said Cole.

"Yeah, and that's part of the problem. I like my space. I want time to myself and I want people to stop telling me what I can and can't do," said Baird, with a fair bit of annoyance.

"It's only because you're being a stubborn arsehole who won't take care of himself," said Sam. "If you actually ate, slept and took your pills then we'd back off."

Baird sighed and hung his head. "I'm trying, but seizures and the dizziness from the head injury make me feel sick, so I don't want to eat. The pain pills give me nightmares and then I don't sleep. If I don't take the pills then my leg hurts and I don't sleep. If I don't sleep, and get stressed, apparently I get breakthrough seizures."

"We know it sucks, Baird," said Sam. "Just eat what you can and when you can. It's not that hard. And not every night is like last night."

"Yeah, sometimes I get seizures too. Look, the cast on my arm comes off in two weeks," said Baird, "the torture device on my leg in three, if it works. I know that this is the worst bit. And I know that you're all here for me, but I'm still sick and just because you're here doesn't mean I'm not going to have bad days when nothing fits together or the world just decides to screw me over. Even on the good days, I'm as fucked up as the rest of us, probably more, and life just hurts with no good reason. I know you're both trying, but…"

"You're not getting rid of us, baby," said Cole, interrupting.

Baird let out a sigh of exasperation. "Yeah, if the last few weeks have taught me anything it's that you're all overprotective morons."

"Yeah, you're not as smart as I've been led to believe, either," said Sam.

"Hey," protested Baird. "Who fixed your rat bike for you?"

"Brennan," said Sam. That was technically correct, but Baird had told her what to do.

"I hate to interrupt," said Cole, in a tone which suggested that he really didn't. "But I've got a communications dish to get up on a roof today, so you two are on your own."

"Fantastic. When did Hayman say I could get rid of my babysitters again?" said Baird.

"I'm thrilled too," said Sam "And Hayman said twenty-four hours so that gives us until 14:00. Come on, we've got to get to the mess hall to pick up some food and then I'm dragging you out for that picnic we talked about, because you really need to get outside more."

Baird gave in at this point and collected together what he needed for a day out of his quarters. Cole made something of a tactical retreat after giving Baird another stupid smirk complete with suggestive eyebrows, which Baird scowled at in return. Sam then pushed Baird out of the accommodation block and into the sun. As promised, they stopped off in the mess hall where Sam had arranged for a packed lunch to be ready for them, then she proceeded to push Baird along a path that he'd never taken before.

"Where are we going?" asked Baird.

"I told you, we're going to have a picnic," said Sam.

"I've never even been down here before. Did you find the evil island hideaway picnic area or something?"

"Oh it's something," said Sam, with a slightly smug sound to her voice. "And it won't be here forever. I found it when I was running around on my rat bike last week."

"I hate surprises," said Baird. "Why does everyone else think they're so much fun?"

"You'll like this one, I guarantee it," said Sam.

Baird had to admit that Sam was right when they reached the end of the path and came out in a clearing in the dense foliage that they'd been heading through. Sam had needed to pull him backwards over a few of the more difficult bits of the path, but she'd persevered and got him there in the end. He could see why she'd been so insistent now.

In front of Baird, amidst the trees which had grown around it, was an aeroplane. Clearly it had crashed there. The damage to the fuselage was extensive and almost the entire side of the plane nearest to them was missing. Inside could be seen the remains of seats and flight equipment, but luckily no skeletons were lurking. Same probably wouldn't have brought him here if there had been, and it wouldn't have made a great spot for a picnic. Instead, Baird was thoroughly intrigued by the aircraft in front of him.

"Woah, okay, I was really not expecting this," said Baird. "You've told Brennan about this, right?"

"Yeah, but she's got more than enough stuff on her plate at the moment and no time to deal with salvage," said Sam. "She told me she'd get to it, but she wasn't sure when."

Baird got his crutch out and hopped over to the edge of the hole on the plane. The ground was uneven, and it only took one near overbalance for Sam to come rushing to his side. He was so concerned with investigating this new discovery that he didn't even mind the help.

"This thing is old," he said, with awe. "It could even be from the Pendulum Wars. Are there any markings on it?"

Sam shrugged. "I haven't checked. I just thought it looked like it might be useful salvage. Until last night it hadn't even occurred to me that you might want to come and see it."

Baird hobbled around the interior of the plane, using seat backs to help steady himself, and headed for the cockpit. "Wow, look at all this stuff."

He moved towards the pilot's chair, clearing away a couple of branches as he did so. He perched on the edge of the seat and looked at the controls. Part of the windscreen was still intact and the light filtering through it had a slight blue tint to it.

"Sam, this is a UIR plane," shouted Baird.

Sam had been poking around in the back of the plane and now came in Baird's direction.

"Why do you say that?"

"Look, this is Ostrian script," said Baird. "Or maybe Pellesian, but it definitely isn't COG."

"Can you read it?" asked Sam.

Baird shook his head, and ignored that Sam automatically put a hand on his shoulder to steady him when the dizzy spell hit.

"If it was Gorasni, I might have a hope. I spent enough time hanging around with their Navy to know a few words," said Baird. "I wonder how it ended up here."

"At a guess I'd say that it was shot down," said Sam. "There's a great big hole in one of the engines at the back."

"Makes sense," said Baird. "If anyone found Azura then they weren't going to be allowed to go home and tell about it. If this is as old as I thought, then I'm surprised it's in such good condition."

Baird took out his Marandaian Army knife and flicked open the screwdriver blade. He lifted his left arm out of his sling, despite Sam's chiding, and attacked the screws on the panel. He got Sam to hold the screws as they came out. His arm was definitely feeling better than it had and losing the sling so that he could use both hands to operate the screwdriver shouldn't tax it too much. He had a physio session with Thompson this afternoon and that would be a lot more gruelling than this.

The panel opened to reveal a mass of wires behind it. He surveyed the circuit boards and wires, suddenly finding himself engrossed in the innards of the plane. He loved aircraft and this was like having a new toy to play with. It was a shame that it was too badly damaged to repair. He lost track of time while he examined the internal systems, then he limped round to the engine compartment and started looking at that. The left jet engine might be toast, but the right looked like it might be salvageable.

"When you're done, we should actually eat lunch," said Sam, with indulgent amusement.

"What?" asked Baird, then his brain switched tracks and worked out what Sam had just said. "Oh, yeah."

"Come on," said Sam. "You've poked at it enough for now."

She gently steered him away from the plane and back towards the wheelchair and their food.

"You know, if you'd mentioned that there was a crashed plane in the jungle then I'd probably have been more enthusiastic," said Baird, as he sat down.

"I don't know, lately you haven't been that enthusiastic about anything," said Sam, getting sandwiches out of the bag she'd brought with them. "It's kind of nice to see you excited about something."

Sam handed him a sandwich and he took a second to examine the contents before taking a bite. Even now, they were conditioned to just be grateful for any food they had, but this looked like ham and Marandaian cheese. He loved ham, and before coming to Azura it had been one of those things that they just never got. Of course Azura's freezers had held a good supply. Like everything else on this island, the food here had been the best while the rest of the world made do.

"I think I'd have to be dead not to appreciate a jet plane," said Baird, around a mouthful of sandwich. For once he was feeling hungry, so he might as well eat while he felt like it. "But thanks for bringing me out here."

Sam just gave a shrug, like manhandling his wheelchair over all the rough terrain had been nothing.

"So I guess there's a lot of good salvage here," said Sam.

"Yeah, there's loads of stuff. I'll have to give Brennan the rundown of what to strip and in what order. There's some stuff in here that we're going to want to treat gently so that we can use it again," said Baird.

They sat in happy silence for a moment, just eating. Baird felt like this might be the moment to ask Sam if she'd noticed the way that the two of them seemed to be getting on better. If she'd noticed that their arguments were less antagonistic and more teasing. He wondered if she'd caught that he was worried about her in the lab, and what it meant that she'd done something nice for him by bringing him here.

"Sam…" he began.

There was the sound of something from the plane, and Baird took a moment to realise that it was coming from inside the cockpit. Then he heard voices, overlaid with static and crackling noise, but still voices.

"Is that a radio?" asked Sam.

Baird finished up his sandwich, frowning. He got to his feet and carefully made his way back into the cockpit. Sam was following him, ready to catch him if he fell.

"I must have turned it on, or maybe I reconnected it when I put everything back together. I wouldn't have thought the battery had any juice left in it," said Baird. "I guess maybe if…" he trailed off as he listened to the words of someone speaking over the radio in a foreign language.

"How's your Ostrian?" asked Sam.

"Not good enough to understand that," said Baird. He flicked the switch that would turn the radio off. "Don't want to drain the batteries." His forehead furrowed in thought. He checked the frequency and then set his own com to pick it up, but there was nothing there, just static. "If Ostri have been broadcasting loud enough for this radio to pick up something, how come our coms can't pick it up?"

"No idea," said Sam.

"Oh, crap," said Baird, with realisation. "It's encrypted. They're using really old encryption, Pendulum war stuff. This is probably the only radio on the entire island than can pick that stuff up. And if they're broadcasting encrypted radio messages that means they're more organised and have a higher level of technology than we thought. We need to tell Anya and Marcus about this."

"Way ahead of you," said Sam, who already had a finger to her com.

Baird found himself just a little disappointed that their quiet picnic was being cut short. He would have to wait for another opportunity now to ask Sam all the questions that he had circulating in his brain about whether this was just friendship. He had such little experience with having friends that it could just be that and he was imagining that there might be more there. He really needed more time to figure this woman out. So, he'd approach this like an engineering schematic, he'd take his time and unpick the details that he needed from the overall picture one at a time. Samantha Byrne was a puzzle to be solved and he was good at solving puzzles.


	13. Chapter 13

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: I have had probably the most productive day of writing ever. I wrote all my Nano words and then I finished off this chapter. This means you get a bonus update in November. Thanks to all those who reviewed the previous chapter with a special shout out to Chris for possibly the most comprehensive review I've ever had for a chapter of a GoW story. More please! I write for you guys and my love of GoW. Okay, yes, I may also have a small thing for blond mechanics.

* * *

Marcus arrived at the crashed plane to find that Jace and Kappa squad were already there. Jace was talking to Baird and Sam, and he could hear them explaining that they'd come out to explore the wreck and have lunch. Anya was still at the Embry Lab with Colonel Hoffman and the Doctor. She'd been surprisingly tight lipped about what they were doing there, but he'd read her body language and seen that he shouldn't push about this. Whatever it was that they were doing there, Anya was stressed and worried about it.

"What's going on?" asked Marcus. He then listened to Baird's explanation of the situation. The aircraft had a radio in it that was picking up encrypted Ostrian signals. They may well have accidentally found a hugely valuable intelligence resource, just lying in their backyard.

"We can't understand what they're saying," said Sam, "but there has to be someone on this island who speaks Ostrian."

Marcus nodded. "Maybe. I'll get Ops to send out a general request on the open channel."

"We're probably going to need a new battery," said Baird. "This one is nearly drained."

"Okay, I'll see what Corporal Brennan can do for us," said Marcus. He stepped away to radio Ops and then Brennan. She was in the middle of getting the communications array back up on a building with Cole and his team, so didn't have much time to spare, but she promised them a battery as soon as she could spare someone to bring it over.

Jace pulled him to one side while everyone else was engrossed in exploring the new discovery. "Alex has been running her mouth," said the Gear.

Marcus sighed in disappointment. "What's she been saying?"

"That Baird basically killed those three Gears from Zeta squad," said Jace.

"He didn't," said Marcus. "He did exactly what he should have done, and if he hadn't then we all might be dead now."

"I know that, but that's not the way she's telling the story," said Jace. "And people are believing her because so far Anya hasn't said word one about what happened yesterday."

"It's complicated," said Marcus. "And Anya's got a lot on her plate with Hoffman's visit. She'll say something when she's good and ready."

"Yeah, well in the meantime Baird's being accused of stuff he didn't do and I may be wrong about this, but I'd say he doesn't need the extra stress right now," said Jace.

"I'll deal with it," said Marcus. "If you come across anyone spreading the incorrect version of events then perhaps you could set them straight."

"Hey, I'm a one man truth army," said Jace, "but I can't tell people what to think."

"Damn it," said Marcus, glancing back towards Baird. Every time he looked at the engineer these days he seemed to be looking tired and pale. At this moment Baird was sat in the cockpit of the wrecked plane, with a pair of earphones on, apparently trying to hear something over the radio. He doubted that Baird spoke any Ostrian so he wondered what he was listening for.

"Look, a lot of people on this island are scared," said Jace. "If Anya and Hoffman can calm stuff down then they'll probably all forget Alex's version of events."

"Here's hoping," said Marcus. His radio clicked at him.

"Operations to Fenix," said the operator. "Have you got Baird with you?"

"Yeah, he's here," said Marcus.

"I've got Corporal Thompson looking for him. Apparently he's not answering his radio, and he had a physio appointment fifteen minutes ago," said the Operator.

"Okay, I'll send him Thompson's way. Tell him it'll be another fifteen before he can get to him. The crashed aeroplane has him a bit preoccupied and it's a tough walk back with a wheelchair."

"Sergeant, I found you an Ostrian speaker as well. Lieutenant Carmine apparently picked up quite a bit during his time as a prisoner," said the Operator. "He says he's fluent."

"Is he well enough to be out and about yet?"

"Thompson says to give him another day and then they'll probably let him out of the Med Centre, assuming no more setbacks," replied the Operator.

"Okay," said Marcus. "Let Anya know that I need to see her as soon as she's done at the Embry Labs. Radio me as soon as she's available for a meeting."

"Yes, Sergeant Fenix."

"Fenix out."

He went to extract Baird from the cockpit and drag him to his PT session. He pushed his way past the Gears from Kappa squad and tapped Baird on the shoulder.

"Put your radio in," said Marcus, gruffly.

"Why? What did I miss?" asked Baird.

"Your appointment with Thompson," said Marcus.

"Shit, I forgot the time," said Baird, taking off the headphones and shoving his radio back in his ear. "I think I might be able to boost the signal on this and get it a bit clearer. Did you find someone who can understand it yet?"

"Daniel Carmine," said Marcus.

"Yeah, I can imagine how that happened," said Baird. "Poor bastard."

"Come on, I'm your transport back to base. Sam, I need you to organise a guard roster for the plane," said Marcus.

"A guard roster? This plane's been here for a long time and no one's touched it," said Sam.

"Humour me," said Marcus, as he got Baird to his feet.

"Okay," said Sam. "I'll get Lima and Kappa to take shifts."

Marcus nodded in acknowledgement, as he grabbed Baird's chair and got his friend sat down. He left Kappa and Sam to their assigned tasks and concentrated on getting Baird down the path and back to Corporal Thompson who was waiting for them at the gym. He had no idea how Sam had managed to get the wheelchair out here, it took a lot of effort to get the wheels over the ruts in the path and the broken flagstones. She must have been pretty determined to take Baird out to the crashed plane, and given the enthusiasm that Baird had displayed for the wreck, Marcus thought he understood why.

Marcus had been kind of pleased to see Baird so distracted by something that he'd forgotten his appointment. He hadn't been like that with anything for some months now, and for those who knew him, it had been obvious that something was wrong. Maybe they could finally begin to get him back on track now, because perhaps Baird had worked out that there were things to live for in this new world they were trying to build.

Baird bitched about the ride the entire way back to base, and if Baird was complaining then that was usually a good thing. It was when he went quiet and got lost in his own thoughts that there was a problem. Baird did go quiet as they approached the Ops building, because they could see Cole and his team working with Brennan and the engineers on the building's roof to get the communications array in place and installed. They'd eventually decided that Ops was the best location for it, but Marcus wasn't surprised that Baird suddenly had very little to say. Seeing this probably brought back lots of unwanted memories.

They got to the main doors of the Ops building, the gym where Baird had his physiotherapy appointment was in the basement of the building, and they found Anya striding towards them in the opposite direction. As soon as she saw the two of them together, it was clear that she'd been waiting for them.

"I didn't want to do this over the radios," said Anya. "I need to speak to both of you about what we found in the Embry Labs."

"Baird's got a physio appointment to get to," said Marcus.

"I'd love to stay and chat," said Baird, "and I'm so looking forward to finding out what else that bastard Prescott had hidden away in his chamber of horrors, but Thompson will hand my ass to me if I'm any later."

"I've already seen him and explained that you'll be late," said Anya. "Hoffman's given me permission to read you in to what we found in Lab 2 because it concerns both of you."

"It concerns both of _us_? Me and Marcus?" asked Baird, looking puzzled.

"I'll explain it all once we're in my office," said Anya, looking around her at the Gears going about their daily business of keeping Azura running. She was clearly nervous about talking about this here.

Marcus didn't like where this was going at all. Usually Anya was quite happy to discuss island business in the open, but apparently this merited discussion in her office. The three of them walked, or in Baird's case, was pushed, into the building in silence and took the elevator up to Anya's office. When they arrived she closed the door and turned to face them. She looked uncomfortable and more like the Anya he'd known before Jacinto sank, less sure of herself and her command.

"Lab 2 seems to hold a genetic laboratory," said Anya. "The containment procedures are to keep the contents safe from outside infection we think, rather than because something might escape into the outside world. Doctor Hayman and Colonel Hoffman have been down there all morning examining everything and coming to a decision about what to do. I was part of the early discussions, along with Sam because it was her squad who did the initial investigation."

"We were there, Anya," said Marcus.

"Yes, of course, sorry," said Anya, a little flustered. "Lima found a tissue bank that contained tissue samples from several generations of the founding families. It included samples from the Fenix and Baird families, up to and including the present generation."

"Wait, what?" asked Baird. "You mean it contained tissue samples from me and Marcus?"

Anya nodded.

Baird frowned at this, clearly thinking through about a hundred questions in his head before he decided which one was the most pressing. Marcus imagined that his own face looked similarly surprised and confused.

"Why?" asked Marcus. "Why would they keep tissue samples of the Founding Families?"

"We think it was because of what else was in the lab," said Anya. She proceeded to explain about the cloning facilities in Lab 2, and Hayman's reading of the files that suggested the plan had been to clone everyone in the tissue bank so that the AllFathers could maintain their control over Sera forever.

"She also said that there is evidence that the AllFathers carried out genetic manipulation on their offspring, making them stronger, and smarter than their peers. She thinks those traits were passed down the family line and you now carry those engineered genes," said Anya.

Baird looked like he would have been pacing if he could, instead he had a dark look on his face and was staring into space. Marcus was looking directly at Anya. She was still leaving something out and it was going to be something bad by the way her eyes were having trouble meeting his.

"I always knew I was special," Baird snarked, snapping out the comment with a bitterness that Marcus had rarely heard him use. "Who knew about this? Did my parents, our parents, know?"

Anya shook her head, much to Marcus's relief.

"We don't think most of the families knew what was going on. It looks like all the samples were collected at or close to birth of the child in question. It would have been easy to arrange for a medical exam, or something as an excuse to take the sample they needed," said Anya.

"I wouldn't have put it past my mother to have known," said Baird. "And if my father had super intelligence then he wasted it on becoming a magistrate. So, we were some kind of genetic experiment? Supposed to become the ruling class? I've got to say that they totally failed there. I never made it past Lieutenant and I only had that for a week."

"Yeah, apparently your bad attitude isn't genetic," said Marcus.

"And what's your excuse, Sergeant?" countered Baird.

Marcus shrugged. "NCOs have all the power in the army. You know that."

Baird gave him a smirk, at least partly because they both knew it was true on some level. It also had the effect of releasing some of the tension in the room.

"I don't have all the answers," said Anya, "you'll have to read the files or ask Hayman."

"There's more isn't there," said Marcus.

"Yes. Hoffman gave the order to destroy the tissue bank. Everything in it is gone as of 13:00 hours today," said Anya.

"At least I don't have to worry about clones of my parents being created," said Baird, with relief. "I knew there had to be an upside."

"Yeah," ground out Marcus.

Baird whipped his head round and Marcus could see that Baird had just realised that not everyone hated their parents like he did. Marcus had already worked out that, for a fleeting moment, he'd had a chance to see his father again, and now it was gone. Would he have really wanted a clone to be made from his father's DNA? Probably not, but the wound of his dead father was easily reopened and this hurt almost as much as the moment he'd seen his father disintegrate before him.

"It would have been nice to have been consulted, though," added Baird, quickly. It was a rare display of compassion from the mechanic.

"The Colonel felt it was better to keep you out of the decision making," said Anya.

"I can see why," said Marcus. "If he'd kept the bank then people would have been suspicious of our motives. This way he had the option."

"You people do understand that every time you destroy something on this island, that's it, it's gone for good," said Baird. "It's going to be a long time before we can do anything like that again. Those tissue samples probably could have been used to grow spare organs or something."

"We understand, but projects like this are better off being lost," said Anya.

"So who _did_ they clone?" asked Baird.

"How do you know that they cloned anyone?" asked Marcus.

"Anya still looks like she's about to attend a funeral, which means that there's more bad news," said Baird. "So who was it?"

"Chairman Prescott," said Anya.

Marcus definitely hadn't been prepared for that statement. And Baird looked just as shocked as he felt.

"Hayman's in the process of working out how to wake him up now, but we have no idea how much he's going to remember, if anything at all," Anya continued.

"Oh that makes it okay then," said Baird. "Prescott kept a spare in the basement? That bastard really had a lot of issues, didn't he? Why didn't the Colonel just destroy him along with the tissue samples?"

"Because that would be murder," said Marcus, darkly.

"Yeah, well when that clone wakes up there's going to be a long line of people waiting to do what Hoffman wouldn't," said Baird.

Unfortunately, thought Marcus, Baird might be right. He could understand why Hoffman had done what he had, but a clone of Chairman Prescott was going to cause all sorts of new issues. Azura really didn't need any more problems.

"I'm going to take Baird to his appointment with Thompson and then you and I need to talk," said Marcus, looking Anya directly in the eyes. She gave him a small nod of understanding. This was going to require some working through and he still needed to raise the issue of Alex Brand.

"Trouble in paradise?" said Baird.

The glare that Marcus turned on Baird couldn't have been darker.

"I'm not in the correct frame of mind to deal with your mouth right now, Baird, so I suggest you zip it until I get you to Thompson," said Marcus. "Unless you want a broken jaw to add to your list of injuries."

"Woah, okay, sorry," said Baird. "When did you get to be so damn sensitive?"

"Shut up, Baird."

Luckily Baird did exactly that, so Marcus didn't have to carry out his threat. Not that he would have punched Baird, but sometimes even Marcus found the mechanic rubbed him up the wrong way. He pushed Baird in his wheelchair down to the gym and left him there with instructions to Thompson not to go easy. The look that Baird gave him in return for that remark was enough for Marcus to consider them even.

He returned to Anya's office to find that Hoffman had also arrived. For once he was disappointed to see the Colonel. He and Anya had seen each other very little these last few days and they desperately needed some time together. Unfortunately it looked like they weren't going to get it.

"Sir," said Marcus, in greeting.

"Anya told you what we found," said Hoffman.

Marcus dipped his head in the affirmative.

"I'm sorry that we couldn't consult you and Baird about destroying the tissue bank, but you know why," said Hoffman.

"I understand, and Baird does too," said Marcus. "I'm not sure what they hoped to achieve and I think whatever they wanted to do was better put to rest. But Jace brought another problem to me earlier today. Alex Brand has been spreading rumours that Baird's refusal to open the doors in the labs was what killed Zeta-One. We all know that wasn't what happened, but we need to get the official story out there before this becomes a problem."

Marcus saw the way that Anya's shoulders drooped as he heaped yet another problem upon them. He wanted to take her and hold her, but during the day she was his commanding officer and if they weren't professional then how could they expect others to be. Anya couldn't be seen to be treating Marcus as anything other than her subordinate when they were at work.

"We have to tell them something," said Anya, to Hoffman, as if they'd discussed this before.

Hoffman gave a reluctant nod. "We're going to have a clone of Chairman Prescott wandering around soon, and after that all bets are off. Who knows how that's going to go down."

"He'll need protection, at least to begin with," said Marcus. "Baird pointed out that people really didn't like him when he was alive and I doubt most people are smart enough to realise that a clone isn't the same old Chairman Prescott."

"He could still be the same old Prescott," said Anya. "We just don't know what he'll remember."

"Which opens a whole new can of worms," said Hoffman. "Who do we trust to run a protection detail?"

"Cole," said Marcus, without hesitation. "He's no fan, but he believes in fair play."

"I agree," said Anya. "And I think we should call a town meeting. We'll get everyone we can into the mess hall, except for essential personnel who can listen in on their radios. Then we can make the big announcement."

"I want to wait until we know whether he's actually going to survive the process of being woken up," said Hoffman. "And I want ways of dealing with the bio-weapons that we found in the basement, preferably in time for me to announce them along with Prescott's reappearance."

"Yes, sir," said Anya. "I think we can have those ready in time."

"People will feel better if we can tell them that the rest of the evil in that lab is gone," said Hoffman. "What duty have you got Sergeant Brand on?"

"I wanted her to take a couple of days leave, but she refused, so she's helping out in Operations," said Anya.

"Maybe I should have a word," said Hoffman.

"You can try," said Anya. "She's grieving and we all know what it's like to lose teammates that we were close to."

"That doesn't mean she can drag Baird through the mud," said Marcus.

"I know," said Anya, "I just think we need to understand why she'd doing this before we condemn her."

"Maybe the solution is to take her back to Anvil Gate," said Hoffman. "I've had the odd request from people over there to come out here, so I'm sure I could find someone to send out here as a replacement."

Anya nodded. "Assuming she'll go. I don't want to order her."

"Okay, then I'll raise it when we have our chat. Hayman tells me that the Prescott clone should be ready for birthing tomorrow, so we should call that town meeting for tomorrow night," said Hoffman, not without some reluctance.

"Yes, sir, I'll get the word out," said Anya. "I heard that Sam and Baird found a plane. Do you want to fill us in on the details?"

Marcus nodded, and gave Anya and Hoffman his report on the plane. At least that was something which might actually help the island.

* * *

Corporal Brennan would later consider this to be one of the worst mistakes of her career, but Baird never, ever blamed her for what happened as a consequence of her poor judgement. She was less forgiving of herself.

She had just returned from getting the communications dish onto the roof of the Ops building, and had sat down to do some paperwork. Cole had warned her that Baird was planning to make an appearance in the workshop the next few days, assuming he felt up to it. By all accounts her boss was being his usual unhelpful self when it came to rest and recovery, which hadn't surprised Brennan in the slightest. She wanted to get the workshop into some kind of order so that Baird didn't bawl her out, or worse use his cutting sarcasm directly on her.

She set the others to general clean up, while she got on with updating the work log. She then turned to the report that Hoffman had requested. The Colonel had asked for a full report on the engine controller module and the modifications that there had been to the program. There were only a handful of people left in the COG who would be able to understand what had actually been done, so she was trying to put it into language that even a Colonel could understand.

She had just finished when Alex Brand stepped into the workshop. She was rather surprisingly, not wearing her armour and instead had her uniform shirt and slacks on. Brennan raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Everyone had heard about the loss of Zeta-One by now, although Brennan didn't believe for one moment that any of it was her boss's fault. She'd spent too long working with him not to get just how much he actually cared about those he served with.

She stood from the desk and went over to their visitor.

"Can I help you, Sergeant?" she asked. "The boss is still on sick leave if you're looking for him."

"I came to pick up the mail. I'm on duty in Ops until our fearless leader can get her thumb out of her ass and work out what's going on," said Brand.

Brennan said nothing. She'd never gotten on that well with Alex Brand, but as a Sergeant she outranked her and so a certain amount of respect was due to a senior NCO. She went to her desk and collected up the various reports and other items that needed to go back to Ops for distribution. On the top was her report to Hoffman about the downed Raven, but she didn't think anything of that. It was quite usual for someone to be sent down from Ops to pick up the mail and just because it was Alex Brand didn't mean much.

Brand took the pile of paperwork and slid it into the mail bag.

"You look like you're busy," said Brand.

"We're always busy," said Brennan. "There aren't enough hours in the day to fix everything on this island that's broken, especially after last month's storm. Hopefully the boss will put in an appearance tomorrow. Things usually go smoother around here when he's about."

Brand just gave Brennan and unreadable look. "After yesterday I'm surprised that Anya hasn't got him up on charges."

"That's my boss you're talking about Sergeant."

"Your precious boss killed three of my men," said Brand, with venom. Several of the other Gears in the workshop had now turned to look at them. Brennan needed to shut this down now. She wasn't having someone come into her workshop and insult their boss.

"Thank you for collecting the mail, Sergeant Brand. I expect you've got lots of other stops to make," said Brennan pointedly, making it very clear that she was telling Brand to leave.

"Must be nice to have your own little happy corner of the island," said Brand. "Where nothing affects you and people don't die in front of you. You probably shouldn't get too used to it."

Brand turned on her heel and walked out. Brennan let out a long breath, and turned around to look at her stunned team.

"None of that gets back to Baird, okay?" she said, and received nods from the assembled Gears. "He's not responsible for Zeta-One's mistakes, and neither are we. She's just taking her anger out on the nearest people. Now get back to work. The Boss is going to be in some time this week and this place looks like a giant robot vomited on it."

"Yes, Corporal," murmured her staff.

She wouldn't have believed it was true before it had happened, but this place really did run better when Baird was around, cursing and insulting. His cutting sarcasm was a surprisingly effective in motivating his team, and actually everyone missed him. He was a solid presence at the centre of the workshop who always had an answer to every question, or if not a complete answer then an approach for reaching one. No one was going to more pleased to see him back at work than Corporal Brennan.

* * *

Baird was worn out after physio and Cole ran him back to his quarters before he had to return to work. Brennan had come across a few issues with the wiring for the satellite dish and Cole was needed to help resolve them. Apparently Baird was needed too because Brennan radioed him later to ask his advice on things. This made Baird pretty happy because at least he felt like he was being useful rather than just sitting on his ass doing nothing.

The dyslexia was currently the most hated part of his condition. Today the pain pills seemed to be working and his leg wasn't hurting, even after an hour of physiotherapy. However, what he wanted to do was read one of the books that Sam had brought from his office in the workshop, and that was currently an extremely frustrating endeavour. The word danced around the page and he was going to get a headache if he continued. However, at least he _could_ read them, even if it was very slow going.

He thought back for a second. Not everything that he read was as hard as this, or as easy. The blueprints weren't nearly as bad, but the computer in the Embry Labs had been near impossible to make out. Something was going on there, and he just had to work out what it was. This was just a mechanical issue with his eyes malfunctioning. If he could work out what the malfunction was then he might be able to fix it. There had to be research into dyslexia somewhere on this island, but it would probably be in book form or on a disk that he'd have to use a screen to read.

He looked at the blueprints. These were the old fashioned kind that actually lived up to their name, printed on blue paper. He looked at the black print on the white paper that swam in his vision and back to the blueprints which had relatively stable type in comparison.

"Colour," he murmured, suddenly getting what was different.

He rummaged in the box that Sam had brought him and pulled out a piece of red plastic transparent film. He'd been intending to use this to replace a red light indicator on Jack, but it was a large rectangle and he should have enough left for that. He snatched up the book that he'd been trying to read and placed the red film over the page he'd been attempting to get through. He nearly cried for joy when the words stopped jumping about and he was able to read an entire sentence at a reasonable speed. Okay he still wasn't quite as fast as he had once been, but it was better than not being able to read at all.

He read like that for a while and then he got bored with moving the red filter from page to page as he read and started to wonder if there was a better solution. His goggles were lying on the table. This particular pair had been with his since a Locust had broken the last pair at Port Farrall. He'd been pretty annoyed by that since goggles were hard to come by, and he'd spent a while wearing in the last pair. Still these were pretty good now. He took out a tape measure from the box and checked the size of the lenses.

He spent a few moments looking for a pencil in the mess of stuff that now covered his coffee table and then he carefully drew around the outside of one of the goggles onto the red film. This wasn't easy with one arm in a plaster cast, but he took it out of its sling and that made it much easier. He fumbled in his pocket for his knife and flicked out the large cutting blade. He had recently sharpened this and it had a wickedly precise edge to it. He carefully cut out a circle and inserted it inside the left lens of the goggles. Then he cut out another circle and placed this in the right side.

"Huh, actual rose tinted glasses," said Baird, with a smile as he admired his work. He now had a pair of goggles with red lenses that he could use when he read.

The smile was wiped off his face a few moments later when Brennan radioed him again to ask for his opinion on the best way of disposing of the bio-weapons that they'd found in the basement of the Embry labs. Hayman got on the line as well and he had a fairly intense conference call with the two women. He ended up suggesting they wash the lab out with acid. If nothing else, Hayman agreed that it would denature the contagion enough that it would be inert. Anything left could be burnt, but Baird was betting that there wouldn't be if they found strong enough acid.

This then led into a longer and more involved conversation with Brennan about the nuclear reactor. Anya had told Brennan that she wasn't going to be allowed down there until the contagious agents had been dealt with, so she was concerned about the reactor in the meantime. Baird suggested that she could at least monitor the system from the main computer in the Embry lab. From what he'd seen the reactor looked stable and as if it had been put into some kind of hibernation state but they really needed to give it thorough inspection to check that it was safe. If they could get it up and running again in power generation mode then it would solve all of their energy problems for the island. It was probably a far more significant discovery than all the bioweapons and other squishy stuff that they'd found, but people tended to focus on the horrific experiments that could kill people first. Useful engineering marvels came later.

He went back to his reading after that, but he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He tried persevering but clearly he failed at some point.

When Sam knocked on the door a couple of hours later, she found Baird fast asleep on his couch with a book on his chest and his goggles on. He awoke to the sound of her opening the door, which he hadn't left locked because someone might need to get in if he had a seizure. He should probably just give Sam a key, if he could ever come up with a way of cutting it.

"Hi there," said Sam. "I radioed but I guess you were asleep. Hoffman's calling a town meeting, so it's all hands down to the mess hall. We can grab dinner while we're there."

"This is all part of your attempts to get me to eat properly, isn't it?" grumbled Baird.

"Yes, but the meeting is real so you should get your arse in gear if you want to make it in time for his speech. It should be a good one," said Sam.

"I think I already know it all," said Baird, tiredly. He pushed his goggles up on his head.

"Did you get new goggles?" asked Sam, looking at them with curiosity.

"No, I just modified these ones," said Baird. "I think I worked out a way to help with my dyslexia."

"By modifying your goggles?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, it turns out that colour makes it easier for me to see the words. It must be something to do with the way that my eye is processing the signals it gets, but if I put a red filter over the page, I can read it. Well, it's better anyway," said Baird, carefully pushing himself into a sitting position.

Sam looked a little bemused, but then pleased. "Well, if it works. Good on you."

Baird got himself upright, pulled on his gloves and then grabbed his crutch. He hobbled over to the wheelchair and looked at it for a second.

"I really, really hate this thing," said Baird. "If it wasn't for the broken arm then I could at least be on crutches hopping about the place. Instead I'm still relying on people pushing me around."

"Not much longer," said Sam. She paused looking awkward for a moment. "Erm, Baird, Anya said that she told you what we found in lab two. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you before."

Baird frowned. "Classified is classified. We're lucky that they told us at all."

Sam nodded, but she looked slightly guilty. Baird wondered why. Sam didn't even like him that much… except why did he even still think that when he had so much evidence to the contrary. She was taking him out for picnics for heaven's sake. He really needed to work out what was going on between the two of them because at the moment he was very confused and his Sam Byrne puzzle solving wasn't going very well.

"Sam, why are you apologising? This stuff used to happen all the time. Hell, I've seen stuff that I still can't talk about to anyone except Hoffman, Marcus and Cole. I don't think even Anya's been read in on it. I probably shouldn't even be saying this," said Baird, with a quick look up at Sam's expression to see how she was taking this.

"But this was about your family. It was about you and Marcus. I just feel like… I don't know. Like I invaded your privacy," said Sam. "The sample that they took from you, it had your date of birth written on it. I know that you were born on the fourth day of Bloom, but Anya said that you'd sworn her to secrecy on that. And now I just feel like I know stuff about you that you didn't want anyone to know."

Baird once again felt the familiar coldness in his chest as his birthday was mentioned. He wasn't good at reading people, but even he could see that Sam was genuinely worried about how he was going to react to this. He shook his head and then nearly keeled over sideways because he'd forgotten that his brain didn't deal well with sudden movements. Sam caught him before both he and the chair overbalanced.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, just dizzy." He took a couple of deep breaths and got the spinning under control. "Sam, you didn't go looking for my date of birth. Just don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Okay," said Sam. "But why? I mean wouldn't it be nice to celebrate once in a while."

"No!" said Baird, a little too quickly and with too much force. Damn it, Sam was going to know that there was something about the date now. "I mean, no, I'm not one for parties and you know that I didn't get on with my parents. I'd rather just forget the stupid thing. What's one day older, really?"

"Whatever you say, Baird," said Sam, she'd got his door open and was now pushing him along the corridor towards the elevator. "You certainly didn't get much of a celebration this year."

"Yeah, there's a reason why I hate the 4th of Bloom," replied Baird. "Falling off a roof is just one more reason to forget the day exists. Apparently the AllFathers weren't exactly the paragons of virtue that we were led to believe in either."

"Yeah, it does make you wonder, doesn't it," said Sam.

They arrived at the mess hall a few minutes later. The paths between the accommodation block and the mess hall were relatively good, and Sam had been able to manoeuvre him across the paving slabs quite easily. It was about the point that she had to stop to open both of the double doors into the mess hall that he realised that he hadn't been down here to eat since his accident.

Several of his friends had been bringing him food because he hadn't ever felt up to seeing this many people in one go. Baird had quite an introvert streak, which he spent a lot of time suppressing and ignoring, but he was most comfortable dealing with people in small groups. Sam had just pushed him into the largest meeting of Gears on the island since the AllFathers' celebration the previous month and he did not feel like dealing with all these people at all. Not to mention the fact that Alex Brand was probably somewhere in here and he especially didn't want to see her. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. At least partly this was because he didn't want everyone seeing him with one broken leg, a broken arm and in a wheelchair. Gears weren't supposed to be broken, they were supposed to be fighters. These weren't even war wounds, they were from falling off a goddamn roof.

"Sam…" he began, but she was waving at a table that had Cole, Marcus, Jace, and Brennan at it. There was a chair missing which looked suspiciously like it had been removed ready for a wheelchair to take its place.

"Did you radio ahead?" he asked.

"Yeah, just to say that I was about to bring you down so they should save us a couple of spaces."

Baird's shoulders slumped a little. There was no way that he could turn around now and leave, it would be too obvious that something was wrong. He wasn't a coward and he could do this, but all his self-preservation instincts were telling him to walk away. It was just a shame that walking was such a difficult thing at the moment.

Sam pushed him over the table, just in time for Hoffman to enter the room to much whispering and chattering. The problem was that Baird could have sworn that some people were actually whispering about him. He saw a couple of people just staring at him and then exchanging some words with their neighbour whilst pointing in his direction. It brought back some nasty memories of his walk from the Raven to the courthouse in Halvo Bay all those years ago, with half the people he passed discussing his war criminal status and the other half taking bets on whether Loomis was going to execute him. He didn't like this at all.

Anya followed Hoffman in. She was wearing her full dress uniform rather than her much more informal combat uniform. It was unusual and he supposed that this was probably the most important meeting of her career so far, assuming that she was about to announce what he thought she was. Hoffman and Anya took their seats at the top table with Doctor Hayman and Amy Sakura.

Marcus looked tense and as if he would much rather have been standing beside Anya than sat down on the plebs' tables. Anya's reasoning here was pretty clear to Baird, if there was going to be fallout then Anya and Hoffman were to be the targets. They didn't want Marcus's status as hero to be tarnished, and cynically, Baird wondered if that was because they thought it might be needed later to calm the situation down.

Dinner came next, which was the usual high quality of food on Azura. Baird was finally getting his steak that he had wished so long and hard for. He was finding it hard to enjoy it though. The conversation at their table was stilted and quiet compared to the others around them. Brennan looked puzzled by this, and Cole even more so. Jace was doing his best to fill in the silence with chatter about the aeroplane and Daniel Carmine's recovery, but Marcus, Sam and Baird were making pitiful contributions to the conversation.

Baird ate what he could, if only to stop Sam from nagging him later about it, but still didn't eat as much as he would have prior to the accident. Marcus glared at anyone who even came close to their table, especially people who whispered as they passed. Baird did his best to ignore everything that wasn't happening at their table. Finally dinner was over and Hoffman got ready to make his announcement.

Anya banged something on the table loud enough that everyone quieted down.

"Gears, please show your appreciation for Colonel Hoffman in the traditional manner!" she shouted.

Wow, Baird hadn't been expecting that, but it was pretty damn clever. Get everyone to remember that they're an army belonging to a nation before you spring the big surprise on them. He had to admire Anya's tactics. It had been many months since Baird had seen this done and even longer since he'd done it himself, unfortunately this wasn't going to be the snappiest or most together he'd ever managed. It was a shame because Colonel Hoffman was actually one of the few military commanders that Baird respected.

The entire hall got to its feet, standing at parade rest and then at attention, in one seamless movement. Baird managed to get to his feet but couldn't stand at attention if his life depended on it, so he concentrated on getting the other bits right. They saluted the Colonel, who returned it, at which point the shout of "hoorah" went up, followed by a fist pump in the air and the entire thing finished with the room chanting "we are Gears!" three times at full volume. This usually led to a huge uncontrolled cheer and this time was no different. You'd have to have a heart of stone not to feel like this was something special to be part of. It reminded him that he was actually happy that he hadn't had to resign his Gear status due to his injury.

Baird sat back down heavily, watching everyone else clapping and cheering like this was some kind of celebration. Baird knew what was coming next and suspected that this mood wasn't going to last long. He caught Marcus's eyes and the two Gears exchanged apprehensive looks as Anya banged the table again. Colonel Hoffman stood ready to begin.

"Thank you for that honour," said Hoffman. He wasn't a politician, but he did know soldiers and that was exactly the right thing to say. Baird tuned out the next bit as Hoffman explained about the need to return the COG to democracy and announce Anya's seat on the Triumvirate. This led to more cheering, but he'd heard this all before the previous day. The next bit was going to be the hard part.

"As you know we lost three of our own yesterday because of some things that were being done on this island. Azura was used to conduct biological agent testing and when Zeta-One went to investigate how to dispose of these agents they came into contact with a particularly virulent weapon that was intended for use on the Locust. We feel their loss deeply and I can tell you that we've now come up with a way to destroy all the bio-hazard threats on this island. Their sacrifice will not be forgotten."

Hoffman paused, which apparently was a mistake.

"Liar!" shouted a familiar voice. Alex Brand. "They died because Baird wouldn't let them out for medical treatment."

A buzz of muttering broke out. If Baird could have disappeared under the table in a dignified and non-obvious manner then he would have done so. Unfortunately, he couldn't. Anya banged on the table again, and the room quietened once again.

"I assure you, that isn't the case," said Hoffman. "Quarantine was in force and Corporal Baird acted entirely correctly. We're all alive today because that quarantine seal was maintained. I don't want to hear one more word on that subject. Am I understood, Gears?"

"Sir, yes, sir," replied every Gear in the mess hall. Baird wished it was that easy to change people's minds.

Alex Brand got up from her seat and the entire room watched her stride down the central aisle and out through the double doors. The poisonous look that she sent in Baird's direction wasn't lost on anyone. Cole was directing an equally angry look back and for a second it looked like he might follow the redhead, but Sam put a hand on his arm and the moment was gone. Cole just shook his head in disappointment.

"She's not worth it," whispered Sam. "No one's going to take her seriously."

Hoffman was talking again and Baird had probably missed a bit whilst his mind had been preoccupied with Brand's walkout and his subsequent internal re-accusation of blame. He knew that he didn't kill those Gears, yet his mind seemed determined to shoulder the guilt.

"…this led to the creation of a clone of Chairman Richard Prescott," Hoffman finished, as Baird caught up. The hall exploded in exclamations and muttered questions. "Rather than murder this human being, I authorised Doctor Hayman to arrange for the clone to be birthed this afternoon and he is now recovering in the Med Centre. We have no idea what or how much he remembers, if he remembers anything at all, of his former life as Chairman of the COG. I'd ask everyone to remember that before drawing any conclusions."

Baird tuned out the next bit, including the question time that Anya then presided over, because the entire thing had just hit his maximum for insanity in one day. People were staring at him and pointing and it was all because Alex Brand had a stupid grudge against him that had happened to find fuel in the basement of the Embry labs. He was so over that lab and all the ridiculous evils that Prescott had ordered in the name of saving the COG and humanity. It had been nothing but trouble and it wasn't even over.


	14. Chapter 14

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Apparently making time to write means that I have more time to write. Who knew? Please don't hate me for this chapter...

* * *

They held a memorial service for the dead Gears of Zeta squad, and then Anya personally put Alex Brand on the next Raven back to Anvil Gate. Sergeant Brand was a problem that she didn't need right now and Hayman had also pointed out that the only qualified psychiatrist was in Anvil Gate. Brand had orders to report to Sergeant Bernie Mataki and Bernie had orders to make sure Brand saw the psychiatrist, even if she had to manhandle her there. Anya and Hoffman had sent reports back on the Raven to Bernie about everything that had happened on the island over the past few days, and they trusted her to make sure that Brand was safely out of the way for a while. Anya would be happy to have Alex back once the situation was calmer and some time had passed, but right now her presence on Azura was just making an already difficult situation worse.

The word had gone out across the island. Richard Prescott was back. He might not actually be Chairman Richard Prescott, but a man who looked very like him was currently lying in a private room in the Med Centre. Hayman had said that it might be several days before he actually properly awoke from his hibernation and she was monitoring his condition closely. As far as the doctor was able to tell, Prescott was simply taking his time waking up and there was nothing actually wrong with him.

Anya had walked to the Med Centre every morning for the past three days, even though Hayman had promised that she would radio her the second that the Prescott clone awoke. Hoffman had postponed his return to Anvil Gate twice now, but he would have to return soon. He didn't want to leave Anya to deal with the Prescott problem alone, but Anvil Gate needed the Colonel as much as Azura did.

All the waiting did give Anya time to think and she came to the decision that she was simply trying to do too much herself. As Hoffman had come to realise that he needed her help to run what was left of the COG, she had come to realise that she needed help to run Azura. Hence she had initiated a very difficult conversation with Marcus that morning over breakfast in their quarters. They'd been stood doing domestic things such as buttering toast and pouring coffee when she'd felt it was the right moment.

"I need a Lieutenant," she'd said, "and I put the second best candidate on the Raven back to Anvil Gate."

"Second best?" asked Marcus, taking the bait.

"Yeah, it means I have to go with my first choice," said Anya. "I haven't done it before now because, well, it wouldn't look so good to promote my own boyfriend, but Hoffman's still here and he can sign off on it. I know he agrees."

"Anya…" began Marcus.

"Lieutenant Fenix," said Anya, holding out the new rank insignia to Marcus. It had been hers up until a few days ago. "Come on, you've deserved this for years."

Marcus just sighed. "Give it to Baird."

"Baird? Why?"

"He's smarter than I am and he'd do a better job. I'm a soldier. I do my best work with my boots on the ground," said Marcus.

"There's no reason why that would have to stop. We can do things how we think they should be done now and we don't have to keep doing something just because that's the way it was always done. Look, Cole, Baird, Sam, Jace and Carmine are all leading squads and they should have the appropriate rank. Baird being a corporal still is just ridiculous when he's got five people working for him and one of them is a corporal herself."

"So promote them," retorted Marcus.

"I can't unless I promote you too, because you have responsibility over them," said Anya. "It means we can organise all the squads properly and you get to officially be my SIC."

"Time in service works just fine for me to out rank almost anyone on the island," said Marcus, stubbornly.

"God damn it," said Anya with exasperation. "Can't you just do this one thing for me?"

Marcus looked at her like she'd just punched him in the gut. "Anya, we hardly see each other at the moment. I don't think this is what my father meant when he told us to live our lives to the fullest. Everything that I do at the moment is for us so that we can have somewhere to live together and call home."

Anya looked at Marcus guiltily. "I'm sorry. I know that, I do, but everything is such hard work right now. I suppose occasionally I forget why we're doing this. We'll find time to be together, I promise, and if I can't find time, I'll make time for us."

Marcus stepped up so that the two of them were nose to nose and he rested his forehead on hers. Then he put a hand on her chin and tilted her lips up to meet his.

"I love you," he said. He didn't say it often, but when he did, it had so much feeling behind it that it made up for the rest of the time.

"I love you too," replied Anya.

His hand closed over the single Lieutenant's bar with the cog behind it. He pinned it to his t-shirt collar, even though that wasn't where rank insignia were supposed to be worn. It was a gesture and Anya appreciated it.

"Looks good on you, LT," said Anya.

"It's going to take me a while to get used to, Captain," said Marcus. "And good luck getting Cole to accept a promotion. But Baird will probably complain that he hasn't been made a colonel yet."

"Yeah, I might need my head examined for even thinking about making Baird a sergeant," said Anya, wryly.

Marcus shrugged, still intimately close to Anya, their hands touching as they turned back to finishing their coffee and toast.

"He'll actually be pretty good. As long as his CO can see past the attitude that he spouts, he might even keep the promotion this time."

Anya allowed herself a small smirk at that. Since his commanding officers were going to be Anya and Marcus, it was pretty unlikely that he would manage to piss them off enough to take his brand new sergeant's stripes away from him. All the members of Delta had well and truly got past Baird's outer shell of being a sarcastic bastard by this point. They'd spent too much time watching Baird risk his life for other people to believe that he was really as uncaring as he pretended to be.

"When are you going to tell them?" asked Marcus.

"Assuming that Prescott doesn't pick this morning to wake up, I'll do the rounds as soon as I've left here," said Anya.

She'd done the easy ones first. Sam, Jace and Carmine took their promotions to corporal happily and thanked Anya graciously. Cole she wanted to promote to sergeant, because quite honestly it was only because he'd kept refusing that he wasn't one already.

"I don't need a fancy rank to get my crew to do what I ask them to," said Cole. She'd found him at the Med Centre, supervising the guard duty that had been ordered for Prescott. She pulled him aside into another room so that they could talk for a second.

"I know," said Anya, "but you're not always going to have this squad. I might assign you another one and they're not going to know you. There's a reason the military uses ranks and that's because it lets everyone know instantly who's in charge. I need people to know that you're in charge, Cole."

"I'm not leadership material," said Cole.

"I think you're wrong there," said Anya. "People follow you without needing to be asked. This is just a formality if you like." She paused and then added: "Please, I need a sergeant that isn't Baird."

Cole raised an eyebrow at that, and then laughed. "Oh you're planning on promoting the boy genius too? He's going to love that."

"That is the plan," said Anya.

"Okay, I'll accept, but only because it's you and you asked so nicely," said Cole.

That had just left Baird to tackle, who had happened to be pushed into the Med Centre for an appointment with Hayman at just the right moment. He didn't look very happy to be there, but she'd ushered a grinning Cole out into the corridor and invited Baird into the side room instead.

"I'm promoting you to sergeant, effective immediately," said Anya, taking a rather more blunt approach to her target this time.

"What?" said Baird, totally taken by surprise. "But I was nearly discharged two weeks ago, and I'll just get busted down to Private again. I think I managed a week as a Lieutenant before I was arrested as a war criminal."

"That was a long time ago," said Anya. This wasn't the reaction that she'd expected. "Things are a bit different now and the person in charge of the Azura workshop should have the appropriate rank."

"You're actually serious," said Baird.

"Totally," said Anya.

"I'm not even on active duty and I still haven't solved the problem with my seizure medication," said Baird.

"But you're going to," said Anya.

"I might not," replied Baird.

"Then you'll be a sergeant with epilepsy instead of a corporal," said Anya.

Cole threw open the door at this point, apparently he'd been listening in. "Just take the damn promotion, Damon."

"I will if you will," said Baird, with accusation.

"Already did," said Cole, smugly.

"What happened to "I can kill grubs just as well being a private"?"

"Do you see any grubs?" asked Cole, indicating the general vicinity. "If Anya needs a team captain then I'm damn well going to step up, so you'd better do the same."

"Fuck it," said Baird, giving in. "It's your command. If you want a crippled, epileptic sergeant in charge of your workshop then who am I to stand in your way. The ladies are going to love it."

Cole burst into a fit of laughter, and Anya did her best not to join him. Sam heard the commotion and came over to them, but when Cole related to her what Baird had said, she didn't seem to find it that amusing. Baird just rolled his eyes and now that Sam was here, he looked a little embarrassed. Anya filed that away for later examination. Sam escorted Baird off to what he described as Hayman's torture chamber and that was that.

"How's guard duty going?" Anya asked Cole. "Any problems?"

Cole shook his head, looking back towards Prescott's room. "No one's caused any trouble. I don't think they're going to bother while he's in the hospital. It'll be when he starts walking about that we'll have the issues, but my squad's on the case and they're good kids." Cole glanced towards the room where Sam had taken Baird. "Hey, you know that he's had a lot on his mind lately. He appreciates the promotion, he's just not that good at saying it."

"I did kind of spring it on him," said Anya.

"He needed the distraction. If he'd had to wait for Hayman then he'd have been in a foul mood by the time she was ready for him. I wish he'd just let the Doc put him under," said Cole.

Finally Anya realised why Baird was in the Med Centre. It must be time to adjust his leg frame again. Cole had mentioned how painful this was last time and she expected Baird was anticipating that it was going to be again.

"I didn't realise that's why he was here," said Anya. "I should have waited…"

"Nah, like I said, he needed the distraction," said Cole. "Sam's got this. She's pretty good with him and he'll take his painkillers and sleep it off, like he did last time. Just don't expect to see much of him for the rest of the day."

Anya still kind of felt like she'd done something wrong though, but she didn't get any more time to consider things because suddenly someone was calling her name.

"Captain Stroud," said Jensen, "I think he's waking up. Chairman Prescott, er Mr Prescott I mean."

Anya walked down the hall and into Prescott's room. It did look like he was waking up. There were small movements and then his eyes blinked open. Jensen was checking readings and making notes on his patient's chart.

Anya didn't exactly know how to approach this, but she was going to be as tactful as she could manage. She went to the side of the bed so that the man who lay on it could see her easily. He looked so much younger than she remembered he had been when he died in front of her.

"Hi, sir," she said. "I'm Anya Stroud, Captain Anya Stroud of the Coalition of Ordered Governments. You're in a COG hospital on the island of Azura."

Prescott frowned. "That's all very interesting and informative," he said weakly, "but who am I?"

Anya was about to reply when she realised that she didn't know the answer to that question. He looked like Richard Prescott, but if he didn't remember who he was, then was this clone really Richard Prescott too? That was a philosophical question that she wasn't equipped to answer. She settled for the closest approximation to the truth that she could get.

"Your name is Richard David Prescott," said Anya. "What do you remember?"

Again Prescott frowned. "Not much," he said. "Bits and pieces. Are we at war?"

"We were," said Anya. "We aren't anymore."

"I think my father was an important man," said Prescott. "I remember my mother dying."

Anya was aware that Prescott's mother had died when he was quite young. She decided to try another test.

"Do you remember me?" she asked.

Prescott shook his head. "I'm sure I would remember an officer of your standing and beauty, Captain."

Anya was taken aback for a moment. This man was replying to her very much as if he was the Chairman Prescott that she had known, yet he definitely wasn't that man. But his mannerisms and personality reminded her of Richard Prescott.

Colonel Hoffman entered the room a few seconds later, as Anya continued her questions, trying to gently probe how much this facsimile of their Chairman remembered of his life. It didn't seem to be as simple as having memories up to a certain point in time and then not after that. He hadn't remembered his name or who he had been, but he knew about the Locust War and the Lightmass bomb. He didn't remember Azura or know where he was and he didn't recognise Hoffman.

Hayman arrived well into the interrogation and called a halt to the questioning.

"I think that's enough for today," she said pointedly, shooting a look at Jensen. Anya suspected the junior medic was about to be in trouble for allowing them to continue this long. "Once he's up and about you can continue your questions, for now you'll just have to wait for your answers."

Prescott's clone looked tired, and Anya couldn't blame him. There was still a lot to talk about and they had only just scratched the surface of the many things that they could ask him. However, Anya was almost convinced now that the clone did not remember that he had been Chairman of the COG in another life. The bigger question now was whether he would never remember, or if his memories would appear, and what were they going to do with him in the mean time?

* * *

Sam was worried about Baird. She'd thought his mood was improving, he was modifying his goggles and talking about going to the workshop, and then Alex Brand had happened. He'd retreated back into his quarters and had barely made it out of bed the past couple of days. Even his promotion to sergeant didn't seem to cheer him up.

It was all made worse because the cage around his leg had needed to be adjusted once more and that alone had put him out of action for an entire day. Sam had actually been kind of concerned when she'd collected him after the procedure was done. He looked like crap, but having one's bone manipulated without proper pain relief would probably tend to make anyone pale and shaky.

She'd wanted to stay with him while Hayman did the adjustments, but he seemed embarrassed about her witnessing him in pain, so he'd told her to wait outside. Hayman had tried again to persuade him to take something stronger for the pain, but Baird had refused. As far as he was concerned, the pain was actually the lesser of two evils when it came to that or addiction to prescription painkillers. Sam thought he was an idiot, because one dose wasn't going to get him addicted, but Baird just didn't see it that way.

The trip back to his quarters had been quiet. Sam had watched as he'd gritted his teeth and done his best not to cry out at every tiny bump. He wasn't terribly with it and mostly he was just trying to deal with the pain he was clearly in. There wasn't much she could do for him so she'd got him to his bed, and handed him water and the extra painkillers that Hayman had authorised as a one off. He had then done his best to curl up and cease to exist as a conscious being for a few hours.

He'd told at her to go, but instead she'd called Anya and explained to her that she needed someone to cover her guard duty shift. Anya sounded a little preoccupied but said that she'd assign someone else. She didn't want to leave Baird on his own when he was so vulnerable and immobile. She realised that this was a little pathetic on her part. Baird was a grown man and could get around fine on his crutch without any help, as long as he didn't want to go too far. She wanted to help him though and be near him, it was getting to the point where she was just going to have to admit that to herself. She might actually have feelings for Damon Baird.

"Damn it," she whispered to herself.

Her taste in men was just terrible, and Baird was not an improvement. Dom had been unattainable and broken, Baird was probably just as broken in his own way and most likely oblivious to her. He was self-centred, obnoxious, rude… and kind of cute… and really, really funny when he wanted to be… and smart, ridiculously smart. They shared a love of bikes and engines in general, also explosives but that was sort of hard to bond over, especially as Baird was into making them and Sam had more been into defusing them, and apparently they both liked chess. She wondered if any of that was enough to even start a relationship on.

She busied herself with tidying Baird's apartment and then made a quick run to her quarters, two floors above Baird's, to grab some paperwork that she needed to finish. She tried to clear her mind and think properly about her next move, but it wasn't easy. It was four hours before she heard movement from the bedroom, and then it was Baird swearing. By this point she had basically decided that she wasn't going to act on any feelings that she may or may not have for Baird. Things were just too busy at the moment and there was too much going on for her to add a personal relationship to the mix, especially given that she was fairly certain that any relationship with Baird was going to be a complicated one.

She gently knocked on his door. He was lying on the bed trying to move himself into a sitting position but his leg frame had snagged on a blanket. Every time he tried to move to remove it, the blanket pulled on the leg frame, which had to be excruciating at the moment.

"Don't move," she said. "I'll get you untangled."

Baird lay back with a sigh. "Stupid fucking thing," he growled.

Sam carefully unhooked the blanket from where it had become attached. "There you go. Do you want a hand getting up?"

"I think I might just stay here," said Baird.

"Okay," said Sam. "Can I get you anything?"

"A new leg would be nice."

"Sorry, I'm fresh out of body parts," replied Sam.

Baird sighed again, squeezing the bridge of his nose with his good hand. "Didn't I tell you to leave?"

"Yeah, but you know me. I'm hard of hearing when it comes to being told what to do by you," said Sam.

"I'd noticed," said Baird.

He shifted again, trying to get himself into a sitting position. Apparently he wasn't going to ask for help, so Sam decided that she didn't need to be asked. She grabbed him under his left shoulder and helped him to lever himself up. She then grabbed an extra pillow and shoved it behind his back so that he could lean back. He groaned and nearly toppled sideways, but Sam got herself into position in time to stop him.

He screwed his eyes shut, in definite pain.

"Dizzy again?" she asked, moving around so that she was sat beside him on the bed and supporting him with her shoulder. She was so close to him now that she could smell his skin and the shower gel that he'd used that morning. It was quite pleasant.

"Yeah," he murmured, leaning in to her slightly. "Thanks for catching me. You always seem to be around to catch me at the moment."

He opened his eyes and was confronted with Sam in close proximity to him, but instead of pulling back, he just looked at her. There was definitely some fear in his eyes, but there was also something else. He was looking at her like he'd just seen her properly for the first time. He was looking at her like he wanted her. She leaned in and kissed him.

For a second he didn't respond and she thought she'd read him completely wrong. Then he melted into it and the kiss deepened. She vaguely noted that he wasn't a bad kisser before he pulled back, looking a little stunned. She sat back on her ankles, and her heart sank.

"Did I just make a really big mistake?" she asked.

"Uh, no," said Baird, who seemed to be in shock. Then his primary defence mechanism kicked in and he began to talk. "Unless you didn't mean to kiss me in an extremely passionate manner. In which case, yes, you made a mistake, because that was hot. And now I sound like a hormonal teenager."

"You're an idiot and you really need to stop talking, right now," said Sam, with a grin, "because I'd like to do it again."

"I was really hoping you were going to say something like that. Although, perhaps skip the insults next time…"

Baird didn't get a chance to say anything else because Sam had initiated their second ever kiss. This time he didn't need any prompting to kiss her back. They didn't stop until it became clear that they needed air to breathe. For a few seconds after that they just looked at each other.

"Sam…" began Baird, and then he stopped. "Nope, I've got no words. I think you just shorted all my brain cells."

Sam laughed. "Damon Baird, lost for words."

He stroked her hair, looking at her with eyes that actually had light and hope in them. She was happy that she'd been the one to put that there.

"What happened to you, me and a bottle of suicide pills?" asked Baird, with a smirk.

"People change," said Sam. "Maybe we just needed to stop arguing and start listening?"

Baird shrugged. "I actually kind of enjoy our arguments."

Sam raised her eyebrows, the corners of her mouth turning up just a little. "You're sort of weird. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, and you just kissed me," Baird pointed out. "Admit it. You enjoy them too."

"Okay, maybe a little," said Sam, giving in.

"So what do we do now?" asked Baird.

"I think we do whatever we want."

He dropped his hand to his side, his expression changing. "I can't do this to you. You know this isn't going to work, Sam. I'm an epileptic with probably less than a year left of medication. I have poor social skills, non-existent filters between my brain and my mouth, and I'm also suffering from an acute case of depression. I like you. I like you a lot, but I'm not going to expect you to put up with all that, and I've got to wonder why you're even interested."

"What about if I want to put up with it?" she asked, wondering where Baird was going with this.

"Oh come on, get real. This isn't some fairy-tale love story where everything gets solved by one kiss. There are about a hundred things wrong with us being an item," said Baird, annoyance creeping into his tone.

Sam frowned. She wasn't quite sure how this conversation had got to this point and she didn't like the direction it was now taking.

"Like what? I want you and you seem to want me, so what's the problem?"

"I'm broken, Sam, and maybe you're just after a pity fuck," said Baird.

Sam found herself backing away slightly. "What?"

"I've seen the kind of men that you go for, remember? Poor Dom, grieving for his dead wife and kids. Well, this is just the same. You weren't interested in me until I fell off that damn roof, and now suddenly you're here every morning and radioing me every afternoon. I think you feel sorry for me," said Baird, as if it was the only possible reason that she might want to be with him.

"Fuck you, Baird. That isn't what this is about. And you know what? If that's what you really think, maybe I did make a mistake," she said. She scrambled off the bed, turned away from Baird and headed for the door.

"Sam…" began Baird.

"I don't want to hear it. You've made yourself pretty clear," she threw back, storming across Baird's living room and out into the corridor. She slammed the door behind herself and marched away down the corridor.

It was several steps before she allowed herself time to properly breathe. She was so angry with him. For about five minutes things had been good and then he'd gone and ruined it. She let out an exasperated, frustrated, scream and kicked the nearest wall. This was what happened when you allowed yourself to have feelings for Damon Baird. How could she have ever thought that he might be capable of having a relationship with her? How could she have been that stupid? She felt the need to work her anger out on something, so she made her way to the gym, found a punching bag and began beating on it with all her might.

* * *

Cole knew something was wrong the moment he walked into Baird's quarters that evening. He'd just managed to extricate himself from guard duty on the newly awakened Prescott and then walked over to the accommodation block. He'd expected to find Sam here, because she usually stopped by in the evenings. She and Baird still played chess when they both had a free afternoon, and after today, he fully expected Baird to be on the couch with Sam worrying over him.

When Cole opened the door to Baird's quarters the lights were off and there was no sign of Sam or Baird. He came in and closed the door.

"Hey, baby, the train is in," called Cole.

He walked through the main living room and towards the bedroom. The door was part way open and he could see that Baird wasn't in the bed even before he entered the room. He'd expected him to be sleeping, which would explain why Sam had left him to it, but he wasn't. Baird was sat on the floor at the side of the bed, leaning on the mattress and staring at the wall and with broken glass on the carpeted floor in front of him.

"What are you doing down there?" asked Cole.

"I fell over, and then it just seemed easier to stay down here," said Baird.

Cole tried to keep his expression calm but it wasn't easy. "Why didn't you call someone to come and help you?"

Baird shrugged in a non-answer. He didn't really seem to be paying attention to Cole properly.

"Are you feeling okay? You've not got an aura coming on or something?"

"No, I'm fine," said Baird, in a dull monotone that was about as far from fine as you could get in Cole's opinion.

"Come on, let's get you onto the bed. You can't stay there all day," said Cole.

Baird gave him a small nod and took a deep breath.

Cole's foot crunched on the broken glass as he got under Baird's good right arm and levered him up off the floor. Then he helped his friend to hop around to the side of the bed and sit down. He had bare feet so he made sure to steer him around the broken glass. The sharp intake of breath was enough for Cole to know that Baird was in pain, probably still from his leg.

"When did you last take your pain pills?"

"Uh, a few hours ago. What time is it now?"

"18:40," said Cole, checking his watch. "You look like you're due more."

"Not until 19:00," said Baird.

"Want to explain the broken glass?" asked Cole.

"I threw it at the wall," said Baird. Cole just raised an eyebrow because that might explain the how but not the why. Then Baird added a bit more quietly. "I fucked up, Gus. I really, really fucked up."

Cole's first reaction to that was: shit, he's using my first name, this must be bad. Baird never, ever called him Gus, except when he was in trouble. Cole sat down beside him on the bed.

"Okay, start from the top, baby. You're not making much sense."

"Sam kissed me," said Baird.

Cole's face broke into a grin and he gave Baird a playful push on the arm. "Hey, nice one."

"Yeah, it was all fan-fucking-tastic until I stuck my foot in my mouth with my usual precision," said Baird.

Cole gave an internal sigh. Of course Baird would have no idea how to deal with Sam declaring feelings for him. He'd seen something between them and maybe he should have realised that this was what was about to happen. Maybe he could have found some way to have headed this off.

"What did you do?" asked Cole.

"I said some stuff…" said Baird.

"Yeah, I got that. What stuff?"

"That she was only interested in me because she feels sorry for me," said Baird.

"For a smart guy, you can be really stupid," said Cole.

"I know," said Baird. "I screwed up. I'm really good at screwing stuff up lately."

"So you took it out on the innocent glass of water."

"It was all I could reach that was breakable after I fell over trying to chase after her," said Baird. "Stupid broken leg. I am so totally, and utterly, fucked."

Cole understood his friend's frustration.

Baird rubbed at the back of his neck. "What do I do?"

"You apologise like your life depended on it," said Cole.

"I don't think she's going to want to talk to me," said Baird. "God, this is like being back in high school again. I wasn't any good at it back then either. It's all "he said this" and "she said that" and, oh dear god, what the fuck was I even thinking. Samantha Byrne! There is no way that this was ever a good idea."

"So you're just going to give up?" asked Cole, with incredulity. "Why do you think she's been hanging out around here so much? She cares about you. And I know that you care about her too, otherwise you wouldn't have been worrying about her when she was down in the basement of the Embry labs."

"Yeah, and what kind of a boyfriend am I going to be? I've got less than a year of epilepsy medication left and then I'm going to be no good to anyone," said Baird. "I can't start a relationship on those terms."

"Maybe you should let her decide that," said Cole.

"No," said Baird. "I'm not going to be her next Dom."

"Is that what's really eating at you? You think she's just substituting you for Dom?" asked Cole. "They were never even together and you know they were never going to be. Dom just wasn't ready for that, and he was already looking for a way out. I could see it in his eyes."

"None of that matters. The point is that I'm not going to be the one to hurt her like that again," said Baird. "And I just can't handle relationship grief on top of everything else at the moment. Like I said, it was a bad idea, so I'd rather just forget the entire thing happened."

Cole shook his head. "Before you go making any rash decisions, why don't you give everyone a bit of time to calm down. Sleep on it."

"No, I'm done with this stupid idea that I might have been able to have some kind of relationship with Sam Byrne. She's probably off trying to get it on with Daniel Carmine or something by now anyway," said Baird.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's what she's doing," said Cole, sarcastically. It was much more likely that Sam was in as bad a shape as Baird, and she probably didn't feel much like hopping on to the next available man. Sam really wasn't like that anyway, and Baird knew that. As usual Baird was using words as a defence mechanism and trying to play down any idea that he might be upset or actually have feelings about what had happened.

Baird refused to engage in any further conversation about the incident and nothing Cole said would persuade him to reopen the discussion. Cole gave up and went to make Baird some food so that at least he could tell Hayman that he'd eaten properly. When Baird had fallen asleep again, Cole radioed Anya and asked her to locate Sam. She'd probably need a shoulder to cry on, or at least someone to rant at about Baird's idiotic behaviour. When Cole explained this to Anya, she'd agreed entirely and gone to find their friend.

* * *

Anya found Sam in the island's bar. The scientists hadn't been encouraged to drink, but they had been allowed a small amount of alcohol on a controlled basis. Therefore the hotel had a reasonably well stocked bar, which opened a couple of nights a week, and everyone was making the most of it whilst supplies lasted. After this they'd be back to drinking Dizzy's bathtub hooch, but as long as everyone got to their duty shifts on time, Anya didn't see any problem with giving people somewhere to relax.

Sam had picked a table in the corner, where she had a good view of the door. The bar was quite busy but not full to capacity. No one was sat with her and she was nursing a small glass of something amber in colour that she was staring into. Anya stopped at the bar and ordered her own drink, receiving something of a similar colour. She approached Sam's table with a little unease – she'd been here herself and she hadn't always felt like company. Anya hadn't had much time for personal stuff lately, but she wanted to help Sam. It felt like she'd been neglecting this side of her life too much lately.

"Hi," she said, "I wondered if you'd like some company while you drowned your sorrows."

Sam looked up. "Not so much sorrows as frustration and anger, but you're welcome to join me. How did you know I'd be here?"

"I tried your room and the gym. There aren't that many other places you'd go. Cole called me. He's picking up the Baird pieces, and suggested you might need a friend," said Anya.

"Oh, well, I'm an idiot for thinking that Baird wasn't immediately going to tell the nearest person that he kissed an actual, real life girl," said Sam, with annoyance. "I guess the whole island knows by now."

Anya shook her head. "No, just me and Cole. He didn't give me many details either. He just said that you'd kissed Baird and that the two of you had an argument."

"That's hardly news," said Sam.

"The first part is," said Anya. "I didn't realise that you felt that way about him."

Sam shook her head. "I was just being an idiot. It's been weird lately. We've been spending a lot of time together, and I guess I thought that because we were getting along it meant something that it didn't."

"So you kissed him and he didn't kiss back?" asked Anya.

"Nah, it was worse than that. He kissed back. Then he wanted to know why I was coming on to him. He said he liked me, but that I was only after a pity fuck and that it was just because I felt sorry for him," said Sam. She took a large gulp of the alcohol in her glass.

Anya sighed internally. Baird could be such an idiot at times.

"You're sure that there isn't some of that in what you're feeling for him?"

"I don't know," said Sam. "But I don't think so. I am worried about him, but you can't build a relationship on pity, can you?"

"No," said Anya. "But people sometimes try."

"I actually do like him," said Sam. "I've got to be going mad, but under that front he puts up there's a nice guy trying not to drown. I really thought that we might be good together."

Anya shrugged. "Baird has a lot of issues. I doubt he's had much experience with anyone expressing feelings for him."

"That doesn't excuse the things that he said," Sam pointed out.

Anya agreed. "I know, but from what Cole said, Baird's just as cut up about this as you are. You know he's got all the tact of brumak. Maybe you should talk to him again."

"He's probably just upset that he's not going to get laid after all," said Sam.

"I don't know, Cole made it sound like a bit more than that," said Anya.

Sam sighed. "He'll get over it. Baird and I are just not meant to be. Time to move on. Do me a favour and find me a posting that's a long way from anywhere that he's going to be for the next few days. If I see him, I'll probably punch him in the face."

Anya raised an eyebrow. "Okay, if that's what you want. I need someone to take Daniel Carmine to the crashed plane and get him to start listening in to the Ostri radio signals. Your squad were on guard duty down there anyway."

"Okay," said Sam. "That should work out."

"I've assigned Daniel quarters in the main accommodation block. Ops can give you the room number. Be there at 09:00 hours tomorrow to collect him." Anya finished her drink in one gulp. "Meanwhile I've got an island to run, so I should get back to that."

Sam gave her a small smile. "Thanks for the chat. It helped me get some stuff straight."

"No problem," said Anya, although she wondered if Sam was just kidding herself there. She doubted that this was the last of the fallout that she'd be dealing with from this, and she also doubted that Sam had really resolved her feelings for Baird just by deciding that it was water under the bridge.

* * *

Hoffman found himself uncomfortable at the prospect of talking to what everyone was calling "the Prescott Clone". However, he had no choice. The man had been discharged from the Med Centre today and ground rules had to be set. Unsurprisingly, the clone also had questions of his own and those needed answers, it was only fair.

Anya had arranged quarters in one of the accommodation blocks and had very purposefully chosen a room which could have been given to any serving Gear on the island. Prescott wasn't going to be given any special treatment just because he happened to resemble the last Chairman of the COG. Although the bodyguard was necessary, at least until everything settled down.

Hoffman approached the quarters, a fat file of information under one arm, to see the newly promoted Sergeant Cole standing guard.

"Sir," said Cole, with a nod.

"Any trouble, Sergeant?" asked Hoffman.

"A few shouts on the walk over from the Med Centre, but no one's acted on anything," said Cole. "Here's hoping that it stays that way."

He knocked on the door of the clone's assigned quarters and it was opened by one of Cole's squad. No one was taking any chances at the moment. Hoffman stepped inside with a nod to the Private. Prescott was sat at a table reading a book and drinking a mug of coffee.

"Good morning, Colonel," said the clone, and for just a moment Hoffman nearly forgot that this wasn't actually Chairman Prescott. He reminded him so much of the young man that he'd known in the early days of the Locust War.

"Good morning, er," replied Hoffman, and found himself at a loss as to what to call this man.

"Richard," said the clone. "I find myself at something of a disadvantage. I'm obviously someone of some importance or at least interest to you, otherwise I wouldn't be worth two bodyguards. My own memories are somewhat lacking in detail."

Hoffman sat down on the other side of the table.

"There's no easy way to tell you this. You're actually a clone of the man called Richard Prescott," said Hoffman. "I know you look like you're about twenty five years old, but actually you were born about four days ago."

"A clone?" asked Prescott, putting down his book. His eyes were wide with surprise. "But I remember…"

"Those memories were transferred from the original Richard Prescott," said Hoffman. "Richard Prescott was the last Chairman of the COG and apparently he had a contingency plan for what would happen if he died. You. You were supposed to have a complete transfer of his memories but the equipment was damaged and the process was only partial. You were supposed to take over where he left off and become Chairman, but things have moved on."

"So perhaps not bodyguards but jailers," said Prescott. He was calming down remarkably quickly, but this was how the original Prescott would have behaved and that disturbed Hoffman a little. "I imagine having a clone of the former Chairman might be awkward given that he's clearly not around anymore."

"Chairman Prescott walked out on the remaining population of Jacinto at Vectes," said Hoffman. "He isn't terribly popular around here. He died a few months after that. He was killed during a Lambent attack."

"I see," said Prescott. "And people are finding it difficult to understand that I'm not him."

"The problem that I have is that you do have some of his memories, and whilst you may not be him, you're definitely a lot like him," said Hoffman. "I've announced that we'll be having free elections next year, and I don't want anything getting in the way of that."

"Including that a clone of Chairman Prescott decides to enter politics?" asked Prescott.

Hoffman nodded.

"I don't have any intention of interfering," said Prescott. "I just want to work out who I am. Clearly I can't be your Richard Prescott and no one wants me to be him, but as you say, I have some of his memories. I need to make a life for myself and not just pick up the one that he vacated."

"I'm very relieved to hear that," said Hoffman. He handed the clone the file that he'd brought with him. "I've brought you everything that I could find about the experiment and Prescott's life. It's not easy reading. The Locust War meant some hard decisions had to be made and Chairman Prescott was usually the one making them. You may not be him, but he's definitely part of you."

"Thank you," said Prescott. "I appreciate the information."

"The guards are for your protection," said Hoffman.

"I understand my situation," said Prescott.

"If you need anything then ask one of them and they'll do their best to get it for you. We'd appreciate it if you didn't do too much wandering around the island but you're not a prisoner, you can come and go as you like," said Hoffman. "But Azura is a military outpost, there are some areas where you won't be allowed."

Prescott nodded, thumbing the file. "I think that my new reading material will be keeping me busy for a while."

Hoffman left Prescott to his reading, and bumped into Anya on her way to find him.

"I assume that you've given him the full story," said Anya. "How did he take it?"

"Like Chairman Prescott would have," said Hoffman. "He was calm, collected and asked sensible questions."

Anya didn't look terribly surprised. "Well, I suppose that's something."

"What did you want to talk to me about?" asked Hoffman.

"Daniel Carmine's translation of the radio communications from the plane crash," said Anya. "I think I know why we haven't had any trouble with the Ostrians for a while. It looks like they've been fighting with a group of Stranded off to the North in Pelles. Their boats have pulled back to the shore to protect their coast while they deal with their other border."

"I suppose that's good news for us," said Hoffman. "Not so much for whoever they're fighting."

"Mostly the communications were about the fight to the north, but we did get a mention," said Anya. "And it worries me." She looked around her before she continued. The corridor that they were in was empty. "I think it's about the sabotage of the Raven, but they were careful about what they said."

"What was the message?" asked Hoffman.

Anya handed Hoffman a piece of paper. "That's what Daniel wrote down. He was pretty certain of the translation but it didn't make any sense."

Hoffman looked down at the piece of paper. "One Raven down. Test case successful. Mechanic embedded in COG technical structure damaged. Ivo assessing. "

"Ivo?" asked Hoffman. "A Mauris Ivo was killed at Aspho Point. He was one of the scientists that worked on the UIR Hammer of Dawn project. Ivo isn't that common a name in Ostri. Is Lieutenant Carmine sure about this?"

Anya dipped her head. "Yes, although the signal is a bit poor. It's quite hard to hear the transmissions and work out what's being said. We've been recording them and playing them back so that he can take as long as he wants, and listen to words again if he needs to."

"Good idea. You're right to be worried about this though. It suggests that Brennan's right and one of the mechanics is working for the Ostrians. And if taking down one Raven was a test case then they might decide to take down another one. I need to pass this on to Bernie. It might help with her investigation. The more she's got to go on the better."

"I'll get it send over on the next Raven. I'd rather not transmit anything over the radios about this," said Anya. "It looks they haven't worked out that we know the Raven was sabotaged, so I guess they're hoping to pass it off as a malfunction again."

"Agreed," replied Hoffman. "I have a feeling that we're going to have to deal with this Nation of Ostri at some point."

"Yes, sir," said Anya. "They seem intent on butting heads with us, but I'm prepared to play the long game and gather as much intelligence as we can before we do anything."

Hoffman nodded. "Did you get any more out of Daniel Carmine that would help?"

Anya gave a shrug. "A little. It's hard for him to talk about, but he'd going to look at the maps we have and see if he can give us a rough idea of troop distribution."

"Good," said Hoffman. "We'll need a good plan if it ever comes to an attack and you'll want Anvil Gate's help, maybe the Gorasni too." He paused before continuing, meeting Anya's eyes. "Given that the Prescott situation is being handled to the best of our abilities and it looks like our Raven saboteur is in Anvil Gate, I think it might be time for me to head home on the next Raven too."

Anya looked a little disappointed at this news. He briefly wondered if she was humouring an old man, but he liked to think that he knew her better than that.

"It's been good having you here and I've appreciated your guidance," said Anya.

"You'd have managed fine on your own," said Hoffman. "Now that the communications dish is back up, you can always get on the line and ask for advice. You know where I am."

"Yes, sir, and I'm sure I'll be doing that a fair bit."

"I doubt it, Captain," said Hoffman. "This place runs pretty well and I didn't have much of a hand in that. You and Marcus know what you're doing and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."


	15. Chapter 15

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Super long chapter because it seemed to work best this way. Reviewers, your reviews are much appreciated as always. Hey there to Docstrkr, Genesis Vakarian, Karoochan and Chris, who all reviewed the last chapter. Chris: I loved your comments and they had me smiling all day.

* * *

With Cole busy on guard detail for Clone Prescott, Marcus found himself being the one to check in on Baird over the next few days. They'd said goodbye to Hoffman and Marcus had a fairly flexible schedule for the rest of the week so he was the logical choice.

He wasn't going to pry, but apparently there had been an argument between Baird and Sam, and both of them were pretty upset about it. A side product of this was that Sam wasn't going to be radioing in to check on Baird like she usually did, so everyone else was going to have to help out their wheelchair bound friend. Cole had left him lying in bed the first morning after picking him up off the floor, and Baird hadn't even bothered to pretend that he was going to be getting up that day. Given that he looked like crap warmed over, Cole wasn't entirely unsympathetic and thought that resting might actually be a good plan. He passed all this on to Marcus, and pointed out that Baird had had another bad night's sleep. Marcus dropped off food, checked to make sure that Baird had taken his pills and then left him to his sulking.

The problem was that Baird did exactly the same thing for the next two days as well. He missed a senior staff meeting, which annoyed Anya, and then failed to turn up to a consultation with Brennan on the new dish wiring. He looked like he might even be contemplating a fourth day in bed when Marcus finally got fed up and laid down the law.

"You're not just lying around in bed all day again. You've got a physio appointment to get to and Thompson will have your ass if you blow him off," said Marcus, standing at the door of Baird's bedroom. "And you promised Brennan that you'd put in an appearance at the workshop this week. Since today is the last day of the week, that means today."

"Fuck that," said Baird, rolling onto his side and pulling the covers up around his shoulders. "My leg hurts and I'm tired."

"What you are is pathetic," said Marcus. "One argument with Sam and you're acting like your life is over. She's out there doing her duty, and I've had enough of you hiding in your quarters. Stop using your leg as excuse not to get up. The adjustment to the cage was three days ago."

"It still hurts," said Baird, angrily.

"Then take the painkillers," replied Marcus, allowing a little of his own anger to creep into his tone. "And get up, that's an order, Sergeant Baird."

"Yes, sir, Lieutenant Fenix," said Baird, giving Marcus the worst salute that he'd ever seen in his life. Baird crossly pushed himself up into a sitting position, far too quickly to let his damaged brain keep up, and Marcus had to move fast to catch him before he fell over.

"Why do you have to be such an asshole all the time?" asked Marcus.

"It's a gift," said Baird, giving Marcus something of a resigned look.

"Yeah," said Marcus, "I'd noticed. I'll make coffee while you get dressed."

Baird sighed, grabbed his crutch and headed for the bathroom without another word. Marcus moved into the kitchen and put the coffee pot on, whilst he quietly radioed Brennan to warn her that Baird was incoming and that he was not in a good mood.

Baird hopped into the room a little while later, and sat down in an armchair. Marcus handed him a mug of coffee without a word. He'd turned to find something for Baird to eat when the mechanic spoke.

"Is Sam… is she doing okay?" asked Baird.

Marcus frowned. "Yeah, she's been on guard duty up at that downed aeroplane. Daniel Carmine's been translating the radio messages for us. If you want more information than that, you'll have to ask her yourself."

Baird gave a careful nod.

"What did you two fight about anyway?" asked Marcus. Anya knew what had happened because she'd had a heart to heart with Sam, but she hadn't passed anything back to Marcus. She'd muttered something about it being personal.

"That she felt sorry for me," said Baird, with a sigh.

"That doesn't sound like it was worth an argument that ended with the two of you not speaking to each other," said Marcus.

"I don't want to talk about it," said Baird, leaning on his good arm.

Marcus was pretty certain that wasn't even half the story, but it didn't look like he'd be getting anything else from Baird. He went back to finding something for Baird to eat for breakfast.

"Did you take your pills?"

"No," said Baird.

"Okay, why didn't you take your pills?" asked Marcus.

"Forgot," said Baird. "And I was sleeping."

"Moron," said Marcus, and went to get them.

He handed Baird his epilepsy medication and painkillers, which the blond dutifully took. Shaking out the required dosage onto his hand and downing them with a gulp of coffee. He'd finished his course of antibiotics the previous week, so was down to just two lots of pills now.

Marcus got Baird into his chair after breakfast and rolled him down to the Azura engineering workshop. His staff were very happy to see him, which surprised Marcus for a few seconds because really Baird didn't have many friends. But Baird had picked every single one of these people, he'd found all the equipment and chosen the location. This was his workshop and Brennan had been right when she'd said that they were all just exercising squatters' rights. Baird was the most experienced and knowledgeable engineer on the island and his team both respected him and valued his opinions.

"Hi Boss," said Brennan. "Welcome back."

The rest of the mechanics and engineers were crowded around their boss, also welcoming him.

"Yeah, yeah, group hug," said Baird, "so, yes, I'm back, now go do some work." He waved them all off and back to their duties, and then turned back to Brennan. "How's the dish?"

"It's up on the roof," said Brennan. "We're having a few problems with signal strength, but it is working."

The two of them then went into tech speak and Marcus didn't have much hope of understanding, so he left them to it. He did stay to watch for a moment because Baird's entire repertoire of body language had changed as he and Brennan had begun talking. It was like watching the Baird who had got their Centaur running at New Hope, or who had worked out how to fly a gas barge, and had single-handedly managed to repair Jack. In the end, when Marcus returned three hours later, he had to drag Baird away because he still wasn't supposed to be spending too much time working.

Baird was in a noticeably better mood right up until they headed to the mess hall for some food and saw Sam and Cole. At which point all the joy seemed to drain out of both Baird and Sam. They were stiffly cordial with one another, failing to make eye contact and the tension only eased when Sam made a blatantly transparent excuse and walked out of the room.

"You haven't talked to her since you had that argument, have you?" said Cole. It was phrased as a question, but Marcus was well aware that it wasn't.

"No, and what's it to you?" asked Baird, defensively.

"You two have to be able to work together," Marcus pointed out, as the three Gears found a table. "You need to at least be able to talk to her."

"We never managed to be civil to each other before, this is probably a step up," said Baird, shoving a chair out of his path with a little more force than was totally necessary.

"Baby, you could cut that tension with a knife," said Cole. "You have got to work it out with her, for the sake of the rest of us if nothing else."

"Look, I'm working in the workshop and she's on guard duty at the plane," said Baird. "There's quite a distance between those two. It's not like we're bumping into each other in the hallways. It was just a stupid argument. Give it some time and we'll be back to how it was before."

"I don't think so," said Marcus.

Baird just gave a sigh. "I'm just not ready to have it out with her, okay? Now, can we talk about something else?"

The three Gears left it at that and as Baird asked, talked about other things for the rest of the meal. Things weren't improved by a few Gears pointing and whispering as they passed their table and the snippets that Marcus caught weren't very complimentary about Baird. It looked like some people around the island might actually still believe Alex Brand's lies, despite Hoffman setting the record straight. Marcus had no idea how to deal with that, because if they weren't going to listen to the Colonel, then he doubted that they'd listen to anyone else. The best they could do was ignore it and hope that it all blew over.

* * *

Baird had what he would have considered to have been the best week so far following his accident, but for the fact that he missed Sam like crazy. He knew it was ridiculous. He was the one who'd told her that it wasn't going to work and then basically driven her away, but he hadn't been lying when he'd said that he liked her. He more than liked her.

He couldn't, in all good conscience, ask her to start a relationship with him right now. There was nothing about his current situation that would be good or helpful in a relationship. He just didn't want Sam to be spending all her time taking care of him and worrying about him. He was actually wondering if it was a good thing that she wasn't spending all her time playing chess every afternoon, pushing him places and stopping by in the mornings to help him to deal with keeping the cage around his leg clean.

Still, a lot of other things were improving. He spent the week getting back into running the workshop, gradually building up his hours until he was doing an entire shift. He wasn't working the long hours that he had been before, but Hayman had been okay with him doing something close to normal hours by the end of the week. The workshop had a shocking backlog of work, but that was only to be expected. He'd already sat down with Brennan and re-prioritised the work that they had on the books so that they made better use of their available skills. Things were slightly complicated because Baird couldn't work on his own if he was using heavy machinery, or if there was any danger of him being injured if he had a seizure. But the team could be flexible and none of them minded making allowances to ensure Baird didn't put himself in danger. Brennan refused to let Baird use the band saw at all, and test drives were now done by someone else because driving was one of those things that Hayman just wouldn't allow.

Apparently Anya had come down to the workshop with a pamphlet about epilepsy and everyone had read it before Baird came back to work. Baird hadn't been entirely happy to hear this because it meant that he wasn't allowed to get away with doing stuff that could lead to breakthrough seizures – this included working long hours without sleep, getting stressed out about things and drinking vast amounts of coffee. Brennan had made it pretty clear that she'd check in with Hayman if she thought he was doing a minute's more work than he was supposed to be doing. But at least it did have the advantage that everyone in the workshop knew how to handle a seizure if he had one.

At the end of the week, Hayman finally decreed that he could have the cast off his arm and he was unbelievably happy about that. It meant that the doctor was also now prepared to let him have use of a second crutch, so getting around the island on his own became rather easier. He revelled in the freedom and the fact that no seizures for over a week meant that people were relaxing a little when it came to his wellbeing. The medication was working and finally he actually felt like his recovery was getting somewhere.

Baird wasn't the only one recovering either. Daniel Carmine was now up and about, and his brother was doing his best to introduce him to the social life of the island. Baird had already witnessed Daniel and Sam chatting together in the mess hall. He was fairly certain that, whilst he may have been making a dig when he'd suggested that Sam would be seeing Daniel next, the pilot could be interested in dating the Kashkuri Gear. From what he'd heard, Sam was currently spending a fair bit of time with the younger Carmine brother. And who was he to stop her? Baird might be feeling jealous, but he'd pushed her away and he knew that Sam was her own woman. She was definitely better off without him. The two of them had never had a relationship, so he couldn't complain if she'd decided to see someone else. Baird was kind of resigned to watching Sam date other guys and feeling crap about it.

Cole thought that he was being an idiot, of course. The former Thrashball player continued his campaign to get Baird and Sam to talk to each other and just deal with the situation between them. Baird saw no reason to reopen the discussion, and he could only assume that Sam felt the same way because she was definitely avoiding him. However, that didn't mean that Cole was going to stop trying to find ways to get them in the same room. Baird was beginning to think that he might just have to give in and at least say something to Sam, just to stop Cole from trying more and more elaborate plans to get the two in one place for longer than ten seconds.

Today however was nothing to do with Cole. Anya had called a senior staff meeting to discuss Daniel Carmine's intelligence on the Ostrians and that meant Sam would be there too. Baird had slept badly again, which although a common occurrence wasn't nearly as frequent as it had been in previous weeks. The poor sleep meant that he was late up and he had rushed to get to Ops in time for the meeting. He was doing his best to prove that he could look after himself without any help so he hadn't called Cole to just bring the wheelchair over. He'd used his crutches and hopped all the way to Ops on his own. He arrived hot, tired and in a bad mood with both legs aching.

The meeting had already started when he arrived. Marcus, Anya, Daniel Carmine, Sam and Cole were stood around Anya's desk poring over a map of Ostri and Fort Kirnheim. Cole took one look at Baird as he stumbled into the room and pulled out a chair for him, making it clear that he was expected to sit. Baird shot him an annoyed look, but was secretly grateful to his friend for the gesture. No one said anything about him being late, which he was slightly surprised about. In fact Anya just gave him a small nod, suggesting that she might even understand that it was tough getting around on crutches. He really wasn't used to people being nice to him, and he was never quite sure how to deal with it so he just turned his attention to the maps.

Daniel Carmine was talking. "I can't give you exact numbers but I can tell you that it's a substantial garrison. They had groups working in a quarry, a mine, farms, logging and you know about the patrol boats. There were also some areas in the Fort with restricted access. People had to show ID to get into them. I thought it was just the Commander's quarters or something, but a couple of times I saw people in lab coats wandering around so maybe there were weapons manufacturing facilities?"

"You didn't see any supplies being taken in?" asked Anya.

"Food, water and other day to day stuff, definitely. Nothing which would give any clues about what was going on inside the Fort," said Daniel. "There were about twenty guards with UIR issue semi-automatic rifles on duty at the quarry where I was working. They swapped shifts three times a day, taking eight hour shifts in a pretty standard pattern. We do the same thing for defence watches. Twenty guards was plenty to keep guard over a bunch of malnourished slaves, most of whom had been there since Jacinto sank and the grubs stopped being a real problem. You can assume that they had the same arrangement at the mine, farms and forest."

"Do you know who was in charge?" asked Marcus.

"They talked about the Commander a fair bit, but no one ever dropped a name," said Daniel.

"The name Ivo mean anything to you?" asked Anya.

Daniel shook his head. "Except from a couple of radio transmissions that I've picked up, no."

"Did you say Ivo?" asked Marcus. "As in Mauris Ivo?"

Anya nodded. "Hoffman recognised the name too."

"He drowned at Aspho Point," said Marcus. "The extraction boat was shot up by one of their own choppers. Dom saved a lot of people but he couldn't get everyone."

"I remember," said Anya.

"Hang on," said Baird. "Aspho Point was about destroying their ability to make a Hammer of Dawn, right?"

"Yeah," said Marcus. "Part of the mission was to get the UIR scientists out too. Originally they were supposed to be killed, but Hoffman decided that we'd be better off with them working for us. We picked up several of them and put them on a boat back to Tyrus. Before we could get out of there the Indies hit the boat."

Baird knew that Dom had lost his brother there and Marcus his friend, so this was difficult ground.

"So we kidnapped them?" asked Baird, "and some of them got killed because of it."

"That's pretty much the size of things, yeah," said Marcus, his eyes daring Baird to make a thing of this.

"Did Ivo have any connections in the military that you know of? Maybe someone who got him the military scientist gig? Perhaps a favourite uncle or something. You know how it works," said Baird.

"You're thinking this might be a family member," said Cole.

"Yeah, family connections can get you a long way, and if they had enough power to get Mauris a job at Aspho Point then they might have kept that power through the Locust War," said Baird.

"It's a reasonable theory," said Anya.

"But it doesn't help us to work out what their next plans might be," said Marcus.

"Let me have a go at the satellite," said Baird. "I think I can persuade it to give us some pictures of the Fort and surrounding area, if I can just clear enough stuff from the work schedule to give me a day or so at it."

"I think it might have just become a priority," said Anya. "We need to know more about what they're up to over there. Hoffman thinks that when they've dealt with their fight in the North then they'll properly turn their attention to us and I don't want to be caught napping. Equally, we don't have the manpower for a full scale invasion if these numbers are even half right. In short we need to come up with a really good plan and put it into action soon."

"We've still got coded transmissions coming in over the plane's radio," said Sam. "Daniel's translating them as fast as he can, but he's only one man. It would help if we could find another Ostrian speaker."

"I know," said Anya. "I asked Hoffman if he could see if there was anyone at Anvil Gate who could help us out, but I don't want to spread it around too much that we have this intelligence resource. Currently the people in this room, Kappa and Lima are the only ones who know exactly why we needed an Ostrian speaker. I'd like it to stay that way," said Anya.

"Are you saying you don't trust people?" asked Cole. "We're all Gears here."

Anya's face fell, and her eyes briefly flicked over to Marcus. "I can't give you the details because there's an investigation on going. We have reason to believe that there's a spy at Anvil Gate who might be passing information back to the Ostri."

Frowns were displayed on several faces around the table. Baird was fairly sure the look that Anya had given Marcus meant that he knew what was going on.

"Oh yeah, well of course we can't all just get along now that we don't have any grubs to fight," said Baird. "Still, that's Anvil Gate, not here. They've got more civilians to deal with over there."

Anya shrugged and he got the distinct impression that there was a lot more to this than they were being told, and he wasn't going to like what he heard when they did eventually decide to tell them the whole story. They continued to discuss just how many men the Ostrians might have, how many boats they might have and if they had any helicopters.

Baird slightly phased out the last few bits of the discussion. His leg was being unusually sore today. It had mostly been better this last week and Hayman had even foregone this week's adjustment because she was happy with the way the bones were growing together now. Today it had apparently decided it was going to grumble, which was especially annoying because Baird had a full day ahead of him. Still it was only two weeks until Hayman thought the stupid cage could come off, so he just had to hang in there a bit longer.

"Baird," said Anya. "Can you look at the satellite today?"

Baird was jerked from his thoughts by his name being mentioned. He considered the question for a second. He'd finally cracked the problem with the packhorse and he'd been scheduled to go on the final test drive with Cody Quayle after the meeting, but Quayle could probably manage it on his own. Then there was a full schedule of other repairs to look at and he'd hoped that he might get a moment to look at Jack. Having their invisible bot back could come in very helpful if they needed to recon the Ostri Fort. Still, it could all be put off for a day if Anya was happy to push stuff back that was currently on the books.

He nodded. "Yeah, if you don't mind a few bits taking longer than Brennan originally said."

"Hayman's not going to be on my case about your working hours?" asked Anya.

Baird rolled his eyes. "No, I'm being good."

Cole gave him a teasing shove. "And he still needs his afternoon nap, you know. I came down to the workshop yesterday at 15:00 and he was ready for his bed."

"Yeah, well, I'm still healing. And I'd just had PT so excuse me for being tired out after persuading my stupid broken leg that it's fine for me to walk on it really," said Baird. In fact, he'd given up early the previous day because he was so worn out and Brennan had told him to just go home. Baird's response to that was that the workshop still felt more like home than his quarters but neither Cole nor Brennan were buying that one.

Cole was just grinning at him, so he wasn't going to win this one.

"I'm going to need someone to go up on the roof with me though and if I'm going to be looking at satellite imaging systems, all my team have got a full schedule today," said Baird, remembering that there was at least one adjustment which he'd probably have to make directly to the communications array.

You could have cut the following silence with a knife, as everyone in the room looked at him like he'd gone mad.

"What?" he asked, looking at his assembled friends.

"I think they're just thinking that you'd probably sworn off climbing around on roofs for life," said Cole.

Baird sighed. "The Ops building has stairs up to a nice big flat roof that doesn't have any loose tiles or broken boards. I know this because Brennan told me that's why they chose it in the end for the communication array. It's not as high as some of the other buildings but it was much easier to run the cables and it's a stable roof with good access for repair work. I'm not going to fall off it. I just need someone to be up there with me in case I have seizure, which given that I haven't had a seizure for two weeks seems pretty unlikely."

"You really want to go up onto a roof?" asked Marcus, looking just a little disbelieving. "Can you even manage the stairs?"

"Yeah, I'm slow but it's not that difficult," said Baird. This was actually something of a lie. Stairs on crutches were hard and he hated doing them, but he had a job to do and he wasn't going to give up on it just because his friends were overprotective morons.

"Well, as long as you're okay with it…" said Anya. "Any volunteers to help with adjusting the array?"

"I'm on harbour patrol today," said Marcus.

"I'm still babysitting Prescott," said Cole.

"I've got to get on with those translations," said Daniel.

Everyone looked at Sam who apparently had just failed to be fast enough to come up with a good excuse not to have to do something with Baird. He could almost see her thinking the swear words, even though she was the model of professionalism outside. This of course was just another indication that something was very wrong, because he'd have expected some kind of teasing rebuke from her.

"Sure, I'll do it," said Sam.

The meeting broke up after that and he radioed Brennan to tell her that Anya wanted him to have a go at the satellite imaging systems. She made annoyed noises at her boss's change of plans, but said that she'd be able to rejig the schedule without too much hassle. The people with the broken hot water system in the Western Accommodation block might hate him though, because it wasn't going to get seen to today now. He smirked a little at that.

Baird pulled on his gloves and got hold of his crutches. He hopped out of Anya's office and headed for Ops. This was the centre of the island's operations. All radio communication came through here and it was always busy despatching Gears to an assignment, or getting updates to orders, or sourcing information. This was where communication between Anvil Gate, Gorasnaya and Azura happened, and if something went wrong anywhere, Ops were always the first to know. It was also where the Hammer of Dawn controls were and everything else to do with the satellites that orbited Sera increasingly erratically.

He was still slow on his crutches and so he was the last to leave Anya's office. Sam had been the first, studiously ignoring Baird throughout the whole meeting until she'd had to acknowledge his presence. She was waiting for him in Ops.

"Let's get this over with then," she said.

"Look, I can just order one of my team to leave whatever they were doing and come over…" said Baird. "I know this isn't ideal."

"Too right. But I told Anya that I'd babysit, so that's what I'm going to do," said Sam.

"I've got some things to see to down here before I get to the stuff on the roof," said Baird, feeling pretty bad now about forcing Sam into this.

"Okay," said Sam. "I'll be getting the latest report from the weather office down the corridor. Call me when you need me, Sergeant Baird."

With that Sam strode out of Ops. Baird let out a long breath. He really didn't want things to be like this between them, but he couldn't see a way to make things right now. He pushed all thoughts of Sam aside and tried to focus on the satellite imaging system. He sat down at the console and began trying to unpick the program that retrieved information from the satellites. The main problem was that bit rot had set in and the code that had once worked to retrieve images now got tripped up by unforeseen errors. He spent quite a while tracking down all the problems and then fixing them one by one.

Working at least gave him the opportunity to ignore the pain in his leg. He had taken his painkillers that morning, but they just didn't seem to be cutting it today. His entire body was beginning to ache in sympathy with his leg, including the old injuries that normally only complained during bad weather. He wondered if he was actually coming down with a cold. That would be just his kind of luck.

Finally he'd tracked down the last of the bugs for this part of the process and he now needed to go and check out the communications array alignment and receivers. Sam hadn't reappeared, so he got to his feet and was nearly toppled over as she stepped through the door just as he put his hand on the door handle and found it pulled away from him.

Sam automatically put a hand out to steady him as a wave of dizziness swept across him. It was weirdly persistent today and took a while to settle.

"Urgh," said Baird, and then realised that didn't sound at all intelligent or helpful. "Sorry," he added.

"No, I wasn't looking where I was going," said Sam. "Are you ready to go up to the roof?"

Baird was about to nod and then realised that would probably just make him dizzy again. "Yeah, come on, this shouldn't take long."

Sam turned around and they walked towards the stairs to the roof.

"Are you sure you can do this?" asked Sam.

"Yes, I'm sure. Didn't we have this out in the meeting?"

"Yeah, but I saw the look on your face," replied Sam.

"I'll be fine," said Baird. "Besides, what look?"

"The one where you're definitely lying about something," said Sam.

"Yeah, I may have said that crutches and stairs are easy when they're really not," said Baird. He handed Sam one of his crutches and grabbed hold of the bannister to steady himself on one side. "Okay, Thompson said "good leg, bad leg, crutch"," he muttered to himself.

Azura mostly had lifts in all the places where he'd needed to get up a floor, so he hadn't had a lot of practice getting up stairs. Until this week he'd been mostly getting around using the wheelchair, so stairs hadn't even really been an option. He could almost hear the eye roll that Sam was engaged in behind his back. He was determined to do this though and he didn't need any help.

Once again they fell into awkward silence. Baird heaved himself up the stairs and Sam trailed up behind him, watching his every step in case it looked like he might fall. This irritated him a little, but whereas in the past he would have told Sam to just walk up the stairs, he now bit his tongue because he just didn't want to make things worse. They reached the top without incident and headed out onto the roof.

It was another warm day and the sun was baking the black felt of the flat roof. He could move faster now, so he took his second crutch back from Sam and swung himself towards the communication array. This was the first time that he'd seen the array since it had been installed in its new position. Brennan and the team had done good work, and Baird wouldn't have any trouble making the couple of fine adjustments that he needed to. He set his crutches to one side and sat down on the ground in front of the access panel that he wanted to open.

"I'll just be a few minutes and then you can get back to whatever you had scheduled for today before I screwed up your plans," said Baird.

"My squad are still guarding the plane," said Sam. "Daniel's got his work cut out translating all that radio chatter."

"Yeah, I'm sure he has, but I bet you're helping him out," said Baird, engrossed in getting the access panel undone. Because he wasn't concentrating on being diplomatic his mouth had run away ahead of him again.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Sam.

Baird sighed and decided that they might as well have this out now. "I've seen you and Daniel together. He likes you."

"We just work together, and unlike some people, he's friendly," said Sam.

"Whatever," said Baird. "It's none of my business anyway if you want to see him."

"You're right," said Sam. "It's none of your business."

The access panel was proving to be stiff and Baird had to give it a hard pull to get it to disengage. He put a good deal of his frustration and annoyance into shifting it. Sam wasn't saying any more and Baird didn't have the heart to ask anything else. He wanted to apologise and say that he hadn't meant any of the things that he'd said, but he just couldn't. His mouth was often ahead of his brain, but he'd thought about things since then and he couldn't get involved with Sam at the moment.

He worked as quickly as he could, but he didn't want to rush this and have to come back. He was methodical, making sure that he tackled each circuit in turn. He made the final connection and then replaced the panel. He pulled his gloves back on and reached for his crutches. The aches in his body had worsened from being sat on the ground and his bad leg was stiff. Getting up from the ground was going to be a pain and then he'd have to work out how to pick up his crutches. Sam had clearly seen his dilemma because she held out a hand to him.

Baird waved it away. "I can manage."

"Don't be an idiot," said Sam, "you've got a broken leg that you still can't put proper weight on. Just take the help that's offered."

Baird shot her an annoyed look, but got his good leg into position and then took Sam's hand. She pulled him to his feet and, as usual, he ended up dizzy from the fast movement. For a moment he just had to let the world stop spinning or end up on the ground again, so he hung on to Sam's hands. It only took a few moments for his head to put itself in order, but Baird couldn't stop himself from hanging on a little longer than necessary. He met her eyes.

"Have you got your balance?" asked Sam. "This is getting to be ridiculous. We can't keep on trying to ignore that the other one exists. We need to talk."

"Sam…" began Baird, but he didn't know what to say next. He _did_ know that he didn't want to let go.

"What, Baird?" she replied, crossly.

"There's nothing to say," said Baird.

"Yeah, you would think that. Do you want me to leave? I could go to Anvil Gate."

"If anyone's leaving then it should be me," said Baird.

"They need you," said Sam.

"They need you too," replied Baird. "Besides, we can't just keep shipping people that don't like me off to Anvil Gate. There'd be no one left on the island."

Sam didn't say anything to that. Finally he straightened and gave up his grip on Sam. She bent down to pick up his crutches, and then handed them to him.

"Look…" began Baird. Then their radios chirped at them.

"Ops to Baird and Byrne."

"This is Byrne, go ahead," she said.

"Yeah, Baird here too."

"That downed plane had another surprise for us," said the Operator. "It looks like there's some unexploded ordnance over there. Could you two get over there when you're finished with the satellite systems?"

"Okay, we're nearly done here. Give us a few minutes to get finished up and then we'll be there."

"Yeah, and tell them not to touch anything until we get there," said Baird.

"Will do, Ops out," said the radio operator.

Baird headed towards the stairs, with a slight shake of his head.

"Baird…" said Sam.

"I know," said Baird, trying to think out his next move. "Okay, we've got a bomb or something to defuse. Then I've got a nuclear reactor to look at. I'll be back at the workshop later. Come over about 18:00 and we'll talk properly. No distractions."

"Okay," said Sam.

Baird spent the next hour helping Sam defuse an unexploded missile that was from the wing of the downed jet plane. It had landed a few feet away from the plane, but somehow hadn't detonated. Neither of them were in any frame of mind to do anything other than discuss the best way to defuse the unexploded ordnance. They communicated in single words and terse sentences.

Sam was definitely better at taking bombs apart than he was. Baird lacked the patience and gung-ho attitude which was properly necessary for bomb disposal, but he was quite capable of acting as Sam's assistant and offering advice as required. Sam had seen this type of missile before and knew how to get into it. As far as she was concerned this was a routine matter, and everyone evacuating the area was just a precautionary measure.

Baird left her to deal with the clean-up and headed off to meet Brennan at the nuclear reactor in the basement of the Embry Labs. The entire place had been washed out with acid and then burned with flamethrowers as a further precaution. All the biological agents were gone and so was everything else that was combustible or easily melted in acid. This made Baird feel a little better, although the whole place still felt a bit creepy, but that was probably because he'd known what was down here.

Brennan concurred with Baird that it wouldn't be that hard to get the reactor up and running again. It was quickly becoming Baird's favourite toy on the island and would totally solve their power problems if they could safely bring it online. They spent the next few hours going through maintenance logs for the reactor and working out how to get it up and running properly, before Brennan reminded Baird that he needed to eat and chased him out of the building.

Baird definitely didn't feel one hundred percent today. He met Cole at the mess hall for lunch and although Baird had fully intended to eat a proper meal, if only to keep Cole happy, he ended up just grabbing a sandwich. He didn't even manage to finish that, but at least he'd tried. He usually felt better if he was able to manage some food, but today it didn't really seem to work.

"How did it go with Sam this morning?" asked Cole, without much in the way of preamble. "Jonas in Ops said he heard arguing."

"Damn it," said Baird. "Can't I just have a private life that's actually private? Does the whole goddamn island know every detail of what is going on with Damon Baird? And for your information Jonas is an unreliable source. There was no arguing."

Cole just laughed. "Hey, with the way that you and Sam have been avoiding each other, and the prickly looks she's been giving you, I doubt there's anyone out there that hasn't worked out that something is up. And you know that you owe me for all the times I've acted as a buffer zone between you two."

"We had a few words," said Baird. "She still hates my guts, but she's going to come down to the workshop later to see if we can work out a way to be civil to each other."

"Well I guess that's progress," said Cole.

"Maybe," said Baird. "I still think we'll end up tearing each other to pieces again. Plus Daniel Carmine is so into her."

Cole shook his head. "I think you're seeing stuff that isn't there, baby. Anyway, I heard you got the Pack' up an' running. Just how long did that take you in the end?"

Baird just gave Cole a withering look and then mumbled, "six weeks."

Cole roared with laughter. "It took the great mechanical genius six weeks to repair a Packhorse."

"Hey, I was unconscious for some of that time," said Baird. "And the damn part I needed was in my quarters which I hadn't actually been to for… quite a while. Doesn't traumatic brain injury count for some kind of special dispensation?"

"Oh yeah, you keep making those excuses, but the Cole train knows they're just excuses," smirked Cole.

Baird rolled his eyes, and then stole the apple that Cole had sitting on his tray, biting into it before Cole could snatch it back. Fresh fruit was another one of those things that Gears just hadn't had access to until recently. Baird could have got up and gotten his own, but this was more fun.

"You are in big trouble now," said Cole, pointing a finger at Baird. "I'm going to start planning my payback for that."

Baird smirked, and worked his way around the apple, leaning back in his chair. It felt good to be back to some kind of normality where Cole felt he could tease him and Baird was well enough to fight back. The two of them finished up their meal and Cole ran their trays over to the serving hatch. Baird pushed himself to his feet gently and suddenly the room was spinning around him. He made a grab for the table, almost missing, but then Cole was beside him, steadying him.

"Crap, that hasn't happened for a while," said Baird, as the room settled around him again.

"Did you move too fast?" asked Cole.

"No, I was careful. It reminds me of when I first got out of the Med Centre and every time I moved my head that happened," said Baird. "I don't know, I've kind of been feeling a little off and achy today. Maybe I'm coming down with a cold."

"You can stay well away from me if you are," said Cole. "The Train doesn't do germs."

"Oh yeah, I remember that time in Jacinto when you got that cold and you told me you thought you were dying," grinned Baird. "I've never seen anyone complain so damn much about the sniffles."

"Hey, it was the flu," said Cole, defensively. "And it was a really bad one that year."

"Just keep telling yourself that Cole Train," said Baird.

"Joking aside, if you're still not right later, you should go see Hayman," said Cole, getting serious suddenly.

"I'm not going to see Hayman for a cold," said Baird. "But okay, if I'm still not right tomorrow I'll make the trek up the hill to the Med Centre and check in with old bird."

Cole seemed to be satisfied with this and he headed off to his next duty shift. Baird made his way back to the workshop and settled down for an afternoon of tinkering with Jack. He was in his office with the door open and his team came and went through out the shift. Someone would occasionally come and ask him to look at something, making it a pretty average afternoon.

Baird shivered as he worked. He hadn't been feeling great all day and now he was cold and a bit achy. It was still summer on Azura, but it was approaching evening so he put it down to the day getting cooler. He searched around for his long sleeved uniform t-shirt and pulled it on. He'd left a lot of stuff in his office when he'd been sleeping here and the long sleeved t-shirt had been shoved in a drawer in his desk at some point. The well-worn material was comfortable and made him instantly feel better.

Eventually it was time to pack up the shop and he chased everyone out for the evening. He reckoned that he'd had a reasonably productive day and so had his team. He was feeling incredibly tired and shivering again, despite the temperature gauge in the workshop telling him that it was warm there. He didn't understand why he was so cold all of a sudden. His stomach was feeling unhappy once more too, but that wasn't very unusual. Dizzy spells often led to an upset stomach, and his head wasn't being helpful today. If this continued then he'd have to see Hayman tomorrow.

Tonight he had things to do. He wanted to get this new part for Jack finished and Sam would be coming by in an hour or so. That was going to be a fun conversation. He sat back down at his desk and rested his head on his hands for a moment. He wasn't going to sleep, he just needed to rest his eyes for a second and then he'd be able to deal with Sam when she arrived.

* * *

At 18:00 Sam found herself standing in the courtyard of the Azura mechanical engineering workshop and her feet were refusing to move towards the door. She had defused an actual live warhead this morning and hadn't felt anywhere near as nervous as she felt now. She didn't know what it was about Baird that made her act so irrationally but it seemed to happen every time they got near each other. She wasn't even entirely sure why she'd agreed to this meeting. He didn't seem to have changed his mind about her motivations and she still thought he was an arse.

Except that it wasn't that simple. There was definitely something there. She still cared about him and, despite her best efforts, she couldn't switch off her feelings for him. She had to believe that he didn't really mean what he'd said and it was just Baird failing to understand how feelings worked. This was going to be a painful conversation, she knew it. She took a deep breath, gave a small shake of her head at her own idiocy for trying this again, and pulled open the workshop door.

It was dark and quiet inside. The machines had all been put to bed for the night and no one was working late. The only light came from Baird's office, which was a small room off the side of the main workshop. It cast a warm glow through the half-open door onto the floor of the main room.

"Hey, Baird," shouted Sam, as she walked across the room towards the office door. "I'm here. Let's get this over with."

There was no answer. Sam frowned, wondering if Baird had left the light on and gone somewhere else. He'd probably have radioed her though if he was going to be anywhere other than where he'd said. She reached the door and pushed it open to see the mechanic with his eyes closed and head pillowed on his arms.

"Hey there, sleepy head," said Sam, with a slight smile, leaning against the door jamb. He was kind of cute when he was asleep. "Long day?"

Baird didn't move. He was wearing his long-sleeved t-shirt which seemed a little weird because it was the warm on Azura. Sam was currently wearing a tank top over her combat pants and she still felt the evening heat.

"Baird, come on," said Sam. "This isn't funny." She put a hand on his shoulder and then pulled it back, because even through the material, he felt too warm. She moved her hand to his forehead and the skin was hot to her touch. Baird was definitely running a temperature and now that she was closer, she could see a sheen of sweat across his flushed skin.

Sam didn't waste any more time, she tapped her radio and then started to feel for a pulse.

"Byrne to Operations, I have a medical emergency at the workshop. I need medics down here now," she said, urgently.

"I'm dispatching them now, Corporal," said the Operator. "Can you give me some details to pass on?"

"It's Baird. He's running a temperature and I found him passed out at his desk," said Sam.

"Okay, they should be with you in five minutes. Operations out."

She allowed herself a small sigh of relief that help was on the way. Because Baird had recently suffered a traumatic brain injury, she wasn't taking any chances. He could bawl her out later if this turned out to be a case of flu, but better safe than sorry. She finally found his pulse and, although a little fast, it felt strong. She decided to try to wake him.

"Baird, it's Sam. Come on, open your eyes for me," she said, tapping him lightly on the cheek.

Baird's eyes gradually pulled themselves open. "Sam?" he asked. His voice didn't sound right. It was full of rough tiredness and sleep, but she breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn't deeply unconscious. "Is it that time already?" He blinked at her. His eyes were glassy and not really focussing on her. He tried to push himself up into a sitting position.

"Hey there," said Sam. "You've got a temperature. Do you think you can make it to the bed? There's a med team on the way."

Baird blinked at her again, and gave half a tired nod. Sam pulled him to his feet awkwardly, getting his arm over her shoulder. She got very little help from the uncoordinated and sick mechanic. Baird had lost a fair bit of weight over the last few weeks, but he was still difficult to move without help. She was glad that the cot that Baird kept in his office was close. She manhandled him round to where it sat beside his desk and laid him down as gently as she could manage. Baird groaned wearily and then his eyes fell shut.

"Baird, no, come on, eyes open," said Sam. "You told me that we'd talk."

Baird obeyed the command and looked up at Sam. "I did say that, didn't I?" he murmured.

"Yeah, you did. How are you feeling?"

"Like crap," said Baird.

"Anywhere hurting more than anywhere else?" asked Sam, crouching beside the bed.

"My leg," said Baird, mumbling the words. "I'm probably due more painkillers."

That worried Sam slightly because over the last few weeks, Baird's painkiller consumption had dropped considerably. He wasn't taking them every four hours anymore, but just when the pain bothered him. The only exception had been when Hayman had done the adjustments to the leg cage and he'd been back to taking them more frequently, but that was over a week ago now. If he needed them now then it was because something was wrong.

"I think I'm going to puke," said Baird.

Sam just had time to grab the trash can from beside Baird's desk, before he emptied the entire contents of his stomach into it. This wasn't a lot, but the retching continued for a while. She rubbed his back in circles, almost automatically. She had no idea if it was helping, but she wasn't sure what else to do. Baird eventually lay back on the cot, his hand going to his forehead. His eyes were screwed shut now.

"Dizzy?" she asked, recognising the look. She'd spent enough time with Baird to know how he held himself when he was willing a dizzy spell to evaporate.

"Yeah, doesn't seem to be settling," said Baird, blinking at Sam.

She looked around for water and found a bottle on the desk. She held the bottle to his lips but he could barely hold his head up enough to drink. She put a hand under his head to help him and he took a couple of sips.

"Why didn't you call someone?"

"For a cold?" asked Baird, his head falling to one side and eyes closing again.

"I don't think this is a cold, Damon," said Sam. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin.

Baird's eyes pulled themselves open. "Damon? It must be bad," he mumbled. "Sam..."

Sam grabbed hold of Baird's lax hand. "Yeah?"

"I've really missed playing chess…" said Baird, weakly. His eyes fell shut once more. "…urgh… lights," he added.

Sam frowned at the non-sequitur. Then she got it. "Oh crap."

Baird went rigid and then began to seize. She did what could to make sure that there wasn't anything in the way that he could hurt himself on and then did what she always did when this happened. She sat with him and waited it out. The muscle jerks eventually subsided and it was just as the last spasms were fading that the medics arrived.

"He's just had a seizure," she informed Corporal Thompson and Private Jensen. "I found him passed out at his desk. He's running a temperature, and he was barely aware when I woke him. I got him to the bed and then he threw up. He's had a couple of sips of water."

Thompson nodded and headed straight for his patient. He began checking Baird's vital signs and he shoved a thermometer in his ear to get a temperature reading. Thompson looked decidedly worried at the result as he showed it to Jensen. Thompson moved down to examine the cage around Baird's right leg, frowning again as he checked each of the places where the pins entered Baird's leg.

"Okay, we're taking him back to the Med Centre," said Thompson. "He's got a fever, and I think one of his pin sites is infected. Infections are actually pretty common with this apparatus but I'd have preferred to have caught it earlier."

"He said his leg was hurting," said Sam, kicking herself.

"Yeah, that would fit. The pin sites have to be kept completely clean or this is the result. Do you want to ride up with us?" asked Thompson.

Sam didn't even hesitate to nod. "Yeah. I'd better call the rest of Delta One as well. They'll skin me alive if I don't tell them what's going on."

Thompson and Jensen got Baird onto the stretcher and out to the ambulance, as Sam got on the radio.

"Byrne to Ops, can you put me through to Sergeant Cole?"

"This is Ops, connecting you now."

"Cole here," came the reply. "What's up, Sam? The blond genius causing you trouble?"

"Yeah, but not in the way that you mean. He's got a fever, probably from an infection. I called the medics and they're taking him up to the Med Centre," said Sam. "He had a seizure too."

"Awe, shit," said Cole. "Just when things were looking up. I'll meet you up there and let the rest of Delta know what's going on."

"Thanks, Cole," said Sam, as she climbed into the back of the APC. "Byrne out."

They trundled up the hill and Baird didn't regain consciousness until he was being transferred to a bed in the Med Centre. Hayman was already getting an IV line started when Baird looked at her with unfocussed eyes. Sam was staying close until she was told to get out, and so far no one had paid her much attention.

"Hello, Sergeant Baird," said Hayman. "You're in the Med Centre, you had a seizure, probably because of your rather high temperature. We're going to try to do something about that now."

If Sam hadn't been so worried right at that moment, then she might have been flattered that the first word out of Baird's mouth was "Sam".

"I'm right here," said Sam, moving around the bed to take his hand on the side where Hayman wasn't attempting to start an IV. "And Cole's on his way."

"You know the rules, Corporal," said Hayman, finally noticing her intruder. "If you get under my feet then you're out."

Sam nodded. "Understood, Doc."

"What happened?" slurred Baird, quietly.

"You've got an infected pin site," said Hayman. "You have a fever that we now need to get under control."

Jensen was busily connecting monitors and examining the cage around Baird's leg.

"We're going to need new x-rays," said Hayman, to Jensen. The younger medic nodded and disappeared from the room.

"Baird, are you in pain?" asked Hayman, bluntly.

"Yeah," sighed Baird. "Worst it's been for a while."

"I need your permission to give you morphen," said Hayman. "It's the only thing I've got that's going to touch the pain of an infection without affecting your seizure medication."

"No," said Baird.

"Don't be an arsehole, Baird," said Sam. "You need this."

"No, I'm not taking that stuff again," said Baird, barely conscious but still determined to make himself clear.

Sam met Hayman's eyes and the two of them exchanged an exasperated expression. There were some lines that a doctor couldn't cross if she wanted to retain her integrity and self-respect. Sam suspected that this was Hayman's line. She wouldn't do something that Baird had specifically forbidden.

"Very well, Sergeant, but let me know if you change your mind. You'll have to make do with the less strong stuff," said Hayman. She grabbed a vial and filled a syringe, then inserted the contents into the IV line.

Baird noticeably relaxed as the medication hit his bloodstream, but by this point he was drifting around the edges of consciousness anyway.

Jensen returned to the room a moment later and they wheeled Baird off to x-ray his leg. Sam wasn't allowed to accompany them, so she moved into the waiting room. Cole, out of breath and looking pretty worried, strode into the room a few moments after that.

"They took him to x-ray," said Sam, by way of greeting. "Are the rest of Delta coming too?"

"Marcus is on his way. Anya's got a conference call with the Gorasni and Anvil Gate."

Sam nodded.

"What did the Doc say?"

"Not much yet. They think it's an infected pin site on the frame around his leg, but he's got a temperature and he's kind of spaced out. Oh yeah, and he had a seizure just before the medics arrived but Hayman thinks that was down to the fever. He's in pain from his leg but as usual he's refusing the strong stuff. Hayman had another go at trying to get him to take it, but he's one stubborn arsehole." Sam shook her head in disappointment.

Cole sighed. "I really didn't think we'd be back here again, waiting for news."

"Yeah, me neither," said Sam, sitting down beside Cole and giving his shoulder a friendly squeeze.

"You know, if you don't want to stay, you don't have to," said Cole. "You and he aren't exactly on the best of terms at the moment."

"Yeah, this sort of puts all that stuff into perspective," said Sam. "At the end of the day, we're friends, and I'd rather stay his friend than screw around with all the rubbish that we've been putting each other through lately. I'll sort it out properly once he's better, but for now I'm officially burying the hatchet. That was the plan for tonight anyway, so I might as well follow it regardless."

Marcus arrived a few minutes after that and Sam gave him the same information that she'd given Cole. He looked a little surprised to see her but didn't comment. Sam was pacing around the room by the time Hayman came to give them some news. Baird was back from x-ray and what the doctor had found wasn't terribly good.

"His fever's still rising," she said. "I've got him on IV antibiotics to combat the infection and that should get his temperature down again, but they'll take a little time to work, assuming we have the right ones. The x-ray showed that there's an abscess in the bone, so I'll go in and drain that, but it means we're dealing with a case of osteomyelitis which can be extremely painful and difficult to cure."

"And what happens if you can't cure it?" asked Cole.

"Then we'll have to amputate the leg," said Hayman.

The three Gears exchanged unhappy looks. They knew that Baird wouldn't take that well. Amputations were quite common amongst the Gears who had fought in the Locust War, and Baird had even learnt how to make prosthetics to help out some amputees, including Mathieson at Anvil Gate. It still meant a loss of mobility and a lot of pain while adjusting to using a prosthetic limb.

"Hopefully it won't come to that," said Hayman. "If he'd followed the cleaning regime for the pin sites properly then it most likely wouldn't have become infected. And then he waited before coming to see me, when he should have come here the moment he started feeling unwell. Infections of this type are serious and require aggressive treatment."

Sam felt something icy grip at her chest. She headed for the closest chair and sat down, because she didn't trust her legs to hold her up.

"Can we go and see him?" asked Cole.

"Yes, but I'll be taking him into surgery as soon as I've got the operating theatre prepped and ready. And don't expect him to be very coherent. The fever's going to mean he's probably confused and the medication will be making him sleepy," said Hayman. "We can also probably expect more seizures. The elevated temperature is going to be a trigger for his epilepsy. I'm going to be keeping a very close eye on his condition. Don't hesitate to hit the call button if you think something's not right."

With that, Hayman left the room.

Marcus came over to Sam and touched her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"This is all my fault," said Sam. "I'd been dropping by his quarters in the mornings to help him with keeping his leg frame clean. He was getting dizzy went he bent down to get to the lower pins. Then we had our argument and…"

"You stopped going," finished Marcus.

Sam gave a guilty nod.

Cole glanced back in the direction of Baird's room, shaking his head. He looked like he was ready to hit something and he turned away from the rest of the group. "That stupid asshole!" shouted Cole, kicking out at a chair, which went flying into the opposite wall.

Marcus raised his eyebrows at the chair's flight, but didn't comment on it.

Cole continued his rant. "I asked him. I asked him if he needed help with anything. Why the fuck didn't he say something?"

Marcus stood and retrieved the chair. "Because he's a stubborn asshole. This wasn't your fault, Sam. He could have asked one of us for help and you know we'd have been there. Hell, we've been pushing his scrawny ass around the island for the last four weeks."

"I should have said something…" started Sam.

"Oh no, this is on him," said Cole. "He's got a mouth. He's happy to run it the rest of the time, except when it comes to asking for help." Then Cole seemed to stop and remember something. "Oh shit. He said he thought he was coming down with a cold when I saw him at lunchtime. I should have made him go see Hayman."

"Hey," said Marcus. "It wasn't your fault either. Baird's all grown up. He should have known to go to Hayman."

"Everything is just so damn hard with him, and now he might lose his leg because of all this crap. And I'm just so angry with him," said Cole, pacing.

"Yeah, we could form a club," agreed Sam, "but right now, he needs us."

"I know, I know," said Cole, nodding, and very clearly trying to calm himself down.

"Come on," said Marcus. "We can shout at him when he's feeling better and not got a fever."

The three Gears moved across the corridor to Baird's room. Jensen was making notes on Baird's chart as they came in, and he finished up and hooked it on the end of the bed.

"Hayman's going to want him in surgery in a few minutes. She's just prepping now," said Jensen. "You can chat until I come to get him."

Marcus gave him a nod and Jensen left them to it.

Baird was now dressed in a standard issue Medical Centre gown, swathed in dark green blankets and propped up on pillows. He shivered occasionally with the fever, his skin pale and eyes red. His blond hair was damp with sweat and he blinked at them as they approached.

"Hey, guys," he said, weakly. He mostly looked tired and just a little worried.

"Hey, buddy," said Cole. "How are you doing?"

"I've been better," admitted Baird. "So how much trouble am I in with Hayman?"

"A lot," said Marcus, "but for now you just need to worry about getting better."

Baird's eyes fell closed for a moment, and he mumbled. "Yes, boss." Then he jerked awake with a start. "Can someone tell Brennan… won't be in tomorrow?"

"Yeah, we'll sort it out," said Cole.

Baird's eyes wandered before closing again. "I nearly told her…" he murmured.

"You nearly told Brennan?" asked Marcus.

"Wanted to, but I couldn't get the words out," added Baird.

He wasn't making much sense and Sam had no idea what he was talking about, but didn't think it was about Brennan. He didn't add anymore and Sam was left to wonder, because moments later Jensen returned and Baird was being wheeled out to go into surgery.


	16. Chapter 16

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Welcome to chapter 16! I had no idea this was going to end up being quite as long as this. Thanks again to my reviewers, followers and readers. You're all awesome. This chapter comes with the usual "I am not a doctor" warning, so whilst I do my best to get my medical stuff right, it may not be.

* * *

Baird barely remembered anything of the next two days, but Cole, Marcus and Sam had some very vivid memories that they would probably have preferred not to have had. The three Gears stayed in the Med Centre while Baird was in surgery. None of them wanted to go home and leave Baird, even with the other two there.

Baird was brought out of surgery and left to come around from the anaesthetic, but his fever continued to rise. He spent the next several hours in and out of consciousness and with very little awareness of what was going on or where he was. They reinstituted the rota system so that someone was always sat at Baird's side, whilst the others got some sleep, and this turned out to be almost essential. When he was awake he seemed to be reliving past missions, shouting for Cole to get his head down so that he could shoot something or asking Marcus for details of their attack plan.

"Baird, there aren't any Locust here," said Marcus, patiently, when his turn came round.

"We should sneak around the back and flank them," replied Baird, tiredly, his eyes seeing something that wasn't there and flicking around the room. "Shit, there are more of them," he mumbled. Baird flinched as if he'd seen an explosion ahead of him. "No!" He tried to cover his head with his arms, but the pull of his IV line stopped him. "No!"

Whatever Baird was seeing, it wasn't good. There didn't seem to be much that could be done about it either. He was already awake, he just wasn't actually in the same reality that the rest of them were in. All Marcus could do was keep talking to him and hope that it grounded him enough to pull him out of whichever fire-fight he'd found himself in this time. He just seemed to finish one nightmare and then a new one would start.

"Diggers!" Baird shouted, feebly. "Marcus! Diggers! We need to close the E-hole!"

Marcus had a horrible feeling that he knew where Baird was and what was about to happen next. His further murmurs about shrapnel and explosions confirmed it. This was a flashback to Tarla Plain, the only time Baird had been seriously injured in combat.

"It's okay, Baird, you're not there. You're on Azura," said Marcus. Perhaps if he said it enough then it would penetrate the fever that was clouding Baird's brain, although it hadn't worked so far. Baird did lapse back into unconsciousness for a bit and stayed that way until Cole came to take his turn.

"Tanner, no, don't fight them," murmured Baird. "Stupid son of a bitch. Don't fight them. Don't…" The words were becoming less coherent.

"Has he been like this the entire time?" asked Cole, looking at his friend with worry in his eyes.

Marcus nodded. "Sometimes he falls asleep properly but I think he's still dreaming about all this stuff. He's pretty restless."

"Please, you have to get me out of here," pleaded Baird, quietly to anyone who was listening. "They killed Tanner. Please… Dad."

Both Marcus and Cole looked at Baird at the suddenly incongruous word.

"Oh shit," said Cole.

"No…" murmured Baird, sounding more frightened than Marcus had ever heard him sound before. "Don't shut me in. I promise I won't ask again."

"Hey, baby, you're not there," said Cole. "There ain't no ghosts here. All that's dead and gone now. You're here with us and we're not going to let anything happen to you. You know that I got you out of there." Cole just kept repeating this in various ways, until for just a few seconds Baird's eyes seemed to focus on him.

"Cole… what took you so long?" he asked, and with that, his head fell to one side and he was unconscious again.

Cole let out a sigh of relief, and gave Baird a surprisingly affectionate pat on his shoulder.

"I hope this damn fever breaks soon," said Cole, leaning on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, me too," said Marcus. "Do I get to find out what that was all about? You seemed to know what to say to him."

Cole dragged a seat over and sat down. "I don't know if he'd want me to say and I don't know the full story. All I do know is that ever since I met him, Baird hasn't liked small spaces. The worst thing the Locust could have done to our Damon was shove him in that cylinder we found him in down in the Hollow."

Marcus shook his head. He put his elbows on his knees and rested his head on his linked hands. "But that's not all there is to it, is there? He said Dad."

"Yeah, and that's the bit I don't know much about. I've spent the last two years waking him from some variant of that dream. The worst ones always involve his Dad. Reading between the lines, I think when he was a kid they used to punish him by shutting him up in somewhere small," said Cole. "Now the Hollow and the shitty childhood he had have formed some sort of association in that brain of his, and this is what you get."

Marcus' knew his face was looking pretty angry right now. "How could anyone do that to a kid? Especially the Bairds. I mean, they had everything. What could he have done that meant they'd do that to him?"

"I don't know and I haven't asked. The only time Baird ever talks about his family is to insult them, or when he thinks no one's really listening. All I know is that they died on E-day and they wanted him to join the army. He always said that he enjoyed the irony that he joined up as a private soldier and not an officer, like his Mom wanted." Cole wasn't looking that happy about any of this.

Marcus sighed, giving Baird a quick glance as he tried to process this information. How exactly was a person supposed to deal with the knowledge that a friend had probably been abused as a child? It was all a long time ago now and the perpetrators were dead, even if Baird still bore the scars from their handiwork.

"I'd appreciate if you kept what you heard just between us," said Cole.

"Hey, they're just fever dreams, right?" said Marcus.

Cole nodded in understanding. Baird was a proud guy and Marcus would let him have his pride.

"Go get some sleep, Marcus," said Cole. "I've got this, and he'll need us all to get through this."

Marcus got to his feet and stretched out his muscles. "Okay, but call if you need us."

He moved across the corridor to the waiting room where Sam had shoved three chairs together to make a bed and was sleeping soundly. Marcus had slept in far worse places. He left a message with Operations to let Anya know what was going on and that she was going to be without her senior staff for a day or so, barring emergencies. Then he settled down on the floor with a blanket and pillow stolen from the next room, and slept.

* * *

Cole's shift went in a very similar fashion to Marcus's for most of it. Baird's fever continued to rise and he continued to hallucinate that he was doing what he'd been doing for the last eighteen years, fighting grubs. Hayman was looking unhappy whenever she came in to check on Baird's readings, which was every half hour, and it made Cole uneasy. A seizure added to the complications and Hayman put Baird on a stronger anticonvulsant medication, but she stressed that it was only until his fever came down. This medicine was hard on the body and not to be used long term.

Sam came in to take her turn as the light of morning began to spill across the island and filtered in through the windows of the Medical Centre. Hayman was just discussing Baird's condition with Cole as she entered the room and Cole saw her hesitate to join him. He waved her over. She was part of Delta and they were Baird's support network. They needed to know what was going on.

"If the fever hasn't started to come down within the next hour," said Hayman. "I'll change the antibiotics again. We may also have to consider actively lowering his temperature."

"I thought that's what we'd been trying to do," said Sam.

"A fever isn't always bad. It helps to fight infection, but when it's sustained and high like this, it can become more dangerous than what it's fighting. We've been hoping that the antibiotics and painkillers would work to bring the fever down, but they're not, so I need to start him on stronger antipyretics," said Hayman.

Jensen came in with a new IV bag since Baird's current one was almost finished. Baird was muttering in his sleep and moving restlessly. Suddenly Baird's eyes flew open and he grabbed Jensen's arm just as he was about to plug in the new line.

"Stay away from me," said Baird, clearly, but his eyes were definitely not seeing what was really there.

"Sergeant Baird, it's Corporal Jensen. I'm just changing your IV," said the medic.

Cole took one look at the situation and realised that things were about to go very badly. He recognised the set of Baird's shoulders, even shivering and lying back on his pillows - he was getting ready for a fight.

Jensen tried to back away, but Baird's grip was surprisingly strong for someone who'd recently had a seizure and been in the depths of fever for the last twelve hours.

"Hey, Baird, it's okay," said Cole, "you're not where you think you are."

Cole then made an error in his judgement of the situation. He moved around to the opposite side of the bed from Jensen and put a hand on Baird's shoulder. It was supposed to be a reassuring gesture but Cole should have known that Baird wouldn't accept any touch as friendly at the moment. Before he could react, Baird had let go of Jensen and thrown a punch at Cole, which caught him squarely on the jaw. Cole hadn't even thought that Baird was capable of it at the moment. Jensen made matters worse by trying to stop Baird from going for a second punch and Baird, frightened and confused, fought back.

"You're not taking me," said Baird, sounding hysterical. "I need to find Cole."

"Baird, stop it," said Cole, desperately. "You're not there. Wherever you are, it's not real."

Jensen took a left hook to the eye and fell backwards. Hayman had gone for a syringe and vial of something, but Baird was trying to back away from the people around him. This was pretty unsuccessful since he had nowhere to go, but he was at risk of falling off the bed and he really didn't need to add bruises to his condition. Sam had taken Jensen's place, but was wisely keeping out of range of Baird's fists.

"Hey, Damon, come on, it's us," said Sam.

Baird was definitely too far gone by this point to even hear Sam's words.

"Hold him," said Hayman. "He's going to rip his IV out and do more damage to his leg."

"Sorry, Baird," said Cole and grabbed Baird's right arm, while Sam made a dive for the other flailing limb and took the left.

The two of them together were able to keep the struggling Gear still long enough for Hayman to stab a needle in his shoulder. A few seconds later, Baird went limp in their arms as whatever Hayman had given him took effect.

Cole and Sam just looked at each other for a second, both breathing hard from the exertion of keeping Baird pinned down.

"Jensen, we'll need the restraints," said Hayman. "Just wrists should be enough."

"Yes, doctor," said Jensen, picking himself up off the floor.

"Hang on there," said Cole. "Is that really necessary?"

"Yeah," added Sam. "He's just confused. And putting him in restraints is only going to make it worse."

Hayman didn't look at all impressed. "The safety of my staff comes first. He's a highly trained soldier who spent the last eighteen years fighting monsters non-stop and, at the moment, he can't tell friend from foe. I don't have a choice. I can't keep him sedated until his fever goes down, that could cause other problems, so I have to put him in restraints. I promise you, he won't be in them a moment longer than necessary."

Cole sighed and shook his head. This was going to be torture for Baird.

"Okay," said Cole. "I understand."

Sam was looking strangely guilty, and pretty unhappy. Jensen returned with the restraints a few moments later. They attached to the bed and then went around Baird's wrists. They were well padded so at least they wouldn't hurt him. Sam sat down heavily in the chair by Baird's bed.

"My shift," she said to Cole. "Go on. You look like you could use some sleep."

He ran a hand across the stubble on his chin and realised he probably did look pretty ragged. Cole wasn't going to lie; he was worn out after four hours of trying to pull Baird out of nightmares. He gave Baird a pat on the shoulder, suddenly feeling very protective of his friend, but Sam would take good care of him.

"Okay, you know where I am if you need me," he said and headed out to find somewhere to sleep for a while.

* * *

Anya had finished her rather long and drawn out conference call with the Gorasni and Anvil Gate. Time differences meant that she often ended up doing these late in the evening. Once she'd finished, she'd been handed the message that Baird was in the Med Centre again and Delta were keeping him company. Then she'd seen the update from Marcus which explained that things were kind of serious. She sighed, because they'd all been through enough and didn't need this setback. Baird had actually been back at work and the members of Delta had been looking less worried lately.

She'd spent a lonely night in an empty bed because she knew that if Marcus was still at the Med Centre then things weren't good. He'd probably be busy, or trying to grab a few hours' sleep, so she waited until morning before heading to the Medical Centre. She found Marcus in the waiting room, just as he was waking up. He'd slept on the floor, which made Anya sigh. It was only slightly better than what Cole had managed. The Thrashball player had fallen asleep, upright in a chair in the corner and was dead to the world, with his head leant against the wall, and snoring.

"You're going to throw your back out," said Anya, looking down at her partner. "You could have just come back home."

Marcus shook his head. "We're taking it in turns to sit with Baird. Sam's with him now. I wanted to be here in case anything changed. He's got a pretty bad fever and he's delirious. If Hayman can't get the infection under control then she might have to amputate the leg."

"I hadn't realised that things were that bad when you said that he'd got an infection," said Anya.

"Yeah, it's looking serious," said Marcus. "Hayman's trying to find an antibiotic that will work, but so far the fever hasn't shown any signs of going down and that means the antibiotics aren't dealing with it yet. Sam's upset because she thinks it's her fault and Cole reckons he's to blame because he should have told him to go to see Hayman sooner." Marcus glanced across at Cole.

Anya sat down beside Marcus on the floor. "And you're feeling guilty because…?"

"I'm not," said Marcus.

"Try again," said Anya. "I know you remember."

Marcus gave Anya a resigned look. "I persuaded Cole and Sam that they weren't to blame and ended up saying that it was all Baird's fault."

"And was it his fault?" asked Anya.

"Some of it was because he should have taken better care of himself, but honestly, we all know that he's crap at that stuff. He'd rather spend another hour messing about with Jack than get an hour more sleep. He still hates taking painkillers despite the fact that he knows he needs them, and he has a real problem just asking for help. It's just how his brain works. We should all have taken that into account and compensated."

"You make it sound like dealing with Baird is a military operation," said Anya.

"Maybe if we'd treated it that way, he wouldn't be in the hospital again," said Marcus. "We kind of got complacent when he was mobile again."

"He's a grown man, Marcus," said Anya.

"I'm aware, and I've said before that I'm his squad leader not his mother, but I'm also his friend. Whatever happens, he has epilepsy and we need to stop putting off finding a solution to that because there's more pressing stuff to deal with. Every day he's using up medication that we don't have a replacement for yet."

"I know," said Anya. "I suppose I'd been hoping that something would happen that would present a solution, but you're right, we can't keep putting it off. I'll move it to the top of the pile of things to do something about."

"How's life in the Triumvirate?" asked Marcus.

"There's trouble brewing at Anvil Gate," said Anya.

"What kind of trouble?"

"The kind where the civilians are getting involved. You remember Lewis Gavriel? He's now the Mayor of Anvegad. Basically he and his council run the city, and Hoffman deliberately set it up that way because he's trying to get everyone ready for the idea that the military don't need to be in charge. Officially, Hoffman is only in charge of the garrison and military personnel. The principle is sound but they occasionally have some strange ideas. They want to put Clone Prescott on trial for war crimes." Anya got up from where she'd been sitting and brushed her clothes down.

"What?" asked Marcus, with surprise. Cole stirred a little at Marcus' raised voice, so he continued more quietly. "But _he_ didn't actually do anything. He doesn't even remember most of Prescott's life."

"I know. It's madness, but they're angry and looking for someone to blame for the world being the way it is," said Anya. "And Mayor Gavriel is looking to make political capital out of it."

"That's all we need," said Marcus.

"I've been waiting for something like this," said Anya. "I just thought it was going to be violence against the clone, rather than a political move."

"I'm not sure which is worse," said Marcus. He began to fold up his blanket.

"Oh and the other news is that Mayor Gavriel decided to appoint a military advisor to the Council," said Anya.

"I thought that was Hoffman."

"Apparently they wanted someone who would give them a different perspective."

Marcus rolled his eyes at that. Anya had had a very similar reaction. It was all political double talk, disguising the fact that they didn't think Hoffman was telling them the whole truth.

"So who did they appoint?"

"Alex Brand."

Marcus' shoulders dropped nearly a full inch at those words, and he gave Anya a very disappointed look.

"Yeah, I'm sure she's got no axes to grind. It's just coincidence that they want to put Clone Prescott on trial now," said Marcus.

"I know," said Anya. "But she's not breaking any regulations by offering opinions and Hoffman said that she's still attending sessions with the psychiatrist when she's supposed to. Plus Gavriel requested her personally, so…"

"There's nothing he can do about it without offending people," finished Marcus. "The point of sending her to Anvil Gate was that she wouldn't be able to cause trouble."

"We might have miscalculated there," said Anya. "She's probably now in a position where she could cause more."

Marcus sighed, shaking his head. "One of these days we'll all just learn to get along. Anyway, I need to go and find Hayman for an update. Sam's shift will be over soon."

"I'll come with you," said Anya. "I'd like to see Baird before I have to get back to work."

Marcus nodded and led the way towards Hayman's office. Marcus knocked on the doctor's doorframe. She was sat at her desk, holding up a set of x-rays to the light.

"Baird's?" asked Marcus.

"Yes, Lieutenant," said Hayman. "The break had actually begun to heal properly before this setback. Is it time for the changing of the guard? Corporal Byrne has probably had quite enough by now. It's been a difficult few hours."

"What's the latest?" asked Marcus.

"Nothing good I'm afraid. Baird's still delirious from the fever and he took a swing at Jensen when he tried to change his IV. I had to put him in restraints," said Hayman. Anya's face must have shown the shock that she felt about that and Marcus didn't look much happier. "I have to consider the safety of my staff and I really had no choice."

"It's okay, doctor, we understand and agree with your choice," said Anya.

"Good," replied Hayman. "Unfortunately that isn't the worst of it. I was forced to use some aggressive cooling techniques to get his fever down. It isn't particularly pleasant for him, but at least it does seem to be working."

"You can't just sedate him while it works?" asked Anya.

"And suppress his already weakened respiratory system? I wouldn't recommend it," said Hayman. She looked at her watch. "It's about time for my next observations check. You're welcome to accompany me and see for yourself. About the only good thing that I can say is that he hasn't had another seizure, so the anticonvulsants are working. Even if they're probably poisoning his liver whilst they're doing it."

"Poisoning his liver?" asked Marcus, with concern.

"Don't worry, he won't be on them long enough for it to do much damage and the liver heals," said Hayman. "Given the situation with the leg fracture and the restraints, I don't want him undoing all my hard work repairing his leg with further seizures."

"I know you're doing your best for him," said Anya.

Hayman nodded. "Come on. Corporal Byrne will be very pleased to see her relief after the last few hours."

* * *

Sam had an easy time of it whilst the sedation kept Baird unconscious. When he came round, he was still feverish, and immediately felt the restraints around his wrists. Sam saw him give them an experimental tug, and was on her feet before he'd come fully to awareness. She put her hand in his and held on.

"Hey, Baird, it's okay, you're in the Med Centre," said Sam.

"Sam?" he asked, moving restlessly. "Sam, get me out of here."

"I can't, you've got an infection and a fever," said Sam. She put a hand on his cheek, and he closed his eyes and leaned into it. His skin under her hand was far too hot and sweat was pouring off him. "Hayman's doing everything she can."

"Then you have to get out of here before they find you," said Baird, looking up at Sam again. For once he was focussed on her, although apparently still not aware of where he was.

"Who find me?"

"The Locust," said Baird, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He tugged at the restraints again. "You need to go, before they come back. They killed Tanner, Sam. I can't let anything happen to you." His words were increasingly rapid, scared and anxious. "I can't let anything happen to you."

"Hey, Damon, I'm fine," said Sam. "You're in the Medical Centre on Azura. All the Locust are dead."

Baird's eyes wandered and he didn't seem to even be seeing her anymore. "Got to save her," he mumbled. "Sam? Where are you? Please, Sam!"

"I'm right here, Damon, right here."

Baird lapsed in and out like this for several more hours. His temperature wasn't going down despite everything that Hayman was doing. The doctor brought Sam a bowl of water and cloth and got her to start sponging down his skin in the hopes of lowering his temperature. It was old fashioned, but it seemed to work for a while until his fever began to spike again. Hayman had one more thing to try and Sam wouldn't have wished this particular torture on her worst enemy, let alone a friend.

Hayman stripped Baird down to his underwear, packed icepacks around his body and then placed a cooling blanket, put on its lowest setting, across her patient.

Baird begged them to stop in incoherent and broken sentences. He pleaded with Sam to help him. She held his hand, even though she ended up shivering from the cold and her fingers went numb. She also kept up a constant litany of "it's going to be okay, you just have to hang in there. I'm here for you," and her voice cracked around the edges as she did, because this was torture for her too. It was hard to watch him shiver, so pale and weak, pulling against the restraints because he was frightened and didn't know where he was. And then hear him beg her for help when there was nothing that she could do.

She kept it together until Hayman arrived with Marcus and Anya. They caught the end of Baird asking her once again what he'd done to be punished like this and promising he'd be good, before he'd fallen back into unconsciousness midway through Sam's usual reassurances. Hayman went to check his vitals, grabbing his chart from the end of the bed.

"Hayman told us about the restraints and the cooling blanket," said Marcus, and Sam knew from his tone that he hadn't exactly been happy to hear that news.

Anya looked horrified by the treatment but hadn't said anything.

"I can't believe we're doing this to him," said Sam, and found that she had tears in her eyes. She did her best to blink them away. Gears didn't cry, especially not Sam Byrne and not in front of superior officers. "We tied him down and now we're freezing him. He doesn't know where he is and that we're trying to help him. Half the time he thinks he's a prisoner of the Locust or he's being punished for something, and he's scared."

Marcus put a hand on Sam's shoulders and looked her directly in the eyes. "Hayman's doing everything that she can to get him through this. All we can do is to keep doing what we're doing and make it a little easier on him. At some level he knows we're here and that he has people that care about what happens to him."

Sam scrubbed at her eyes. "I really hope so, Marcus."

Marcus' hand dropped back to his side and he looked at Baird. "I know so. Maybe you haven't noticed, but he reacts differently when he hears our voices. He starts talking about protecting us and making sure that we're okay. You especially. He knows we're here."

Sam frowned, wondering if Marcus was right.

"Now, you look almost as bad as he does. Go back to your quarters and get some proper sleep in a real bed. I'll call you if anything changes," Marcus added.

Sam gave a rapid nod, because she didn't trust her voice.

"I'll walk back with you," said Anya, gently.

Again she nodded and they left Marcus to take over the vigil. Sam was glad of Anya's company because she didn't want to be left alone with her thoughts at the moment.

* * *

It was just over thirty-six hours from when he'd first been admitted before Baird's fever finally broke and the mechanic was able to sleep soundly. Marcus was there when the fever began to drop and he radioed Sam, Cole and Anya to let them know. They all breathed a sigh of relief at this.

Baird had been redressed in scrubs and given a normal blanket again, although the restraints had been left on until they could be sure that his mental state had returned to normal, or at least what was normal for Baird.

Cole was sat at his bedside when Baird finally decided to open his eyes again several hours later. He blinked at the world and then groaned. It took him about five seconds to feel that he was in restraints and suddenly he was wide awake, looking down at his wrists with puzzlement and just a little bit of panic. He felt wrung out and he couldn't make his brain work properly. He was definitely in the Medical Centre but he couldn't remember why or how he got here.

"Hey, baby, it's okay," said Cole. "You're in the Med Centre."

Baird turned his head. It took real effort. "Cole," he said. "What happened?"

"You've had a bad fever," said Cole. "You got an infection in your leg, and you've been in and out of consciousness for about a day and half. You had us kind of worried for a bit there."

Baird tried to process that for a minute. "Why am I tied down?"

"You got a bit confused and decided that me and Jensen were Locust. Jensen's got a nice black eye to show for it," said Cole, with a grin.

Baird groaned again. If he could have raised his hand to his face to cover his eyes in embarrassment then he would have done so, but his hand was pulled up short by the wrist cuff.

"Shit," he said, with feeling. The he looked at Cole and his eyes narrowed, taking in the bruise on his chin. "Did I hit you too?"

Cole's fingers went to his chin. "Yeah, but I'm not going to hold it against you. I don't know where you were, but it wasn't here. It was a good cross."

"Damn it, Cole," said Baird, with embarrassment. "I'm really sorry."

"No apology required. Like I said, your brain wasn't right." Cole reached over and began to undo the restraints. "I don't think we need these anymore. Hayman said they could come off when we were sure you were back in your right mind."

"Thanks," said Baird, and gratefully rubbed at his freed wrists. "How long have you been sat there?"

"A couple of hours," said Cole. "We didn't want you waking up on your own in restraints."

Baird pondered that for a moment. "Yeah, that would have sucked."

He was tired and closed his eyes. He didn't remember falling asleep, but he woke up a few hours later to find Cole had left and Sam had taken his place. Sam smiled at him as he dragged himself into wakefulness again. It felt like a struggle and he ached everywhere. His leg was particularly painful, but he wasn't surprised by that.

"Hey there," said Sam, closing the battered novel that she'd been reading. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," said Baird. His voice didn't sound like his at all.

"I'm not surprised," said Sam. "You've had a rough couple of days."

Baird just looked at her for a second. "Cole said I was pretty out of it. My leg hurts like hell."

Sam pressed the call button. "That's because you've still got a raging infection because you didn't keep your pin sites clean like you were supposed to. And you won't let Hayman give you the good painkillers."

"Oh," said Baird, with horrid realisation. "Is Hayman about to rip me a new one?"

"I think you scared everyone too much for that, but she might have a few words to say on the subject of asking for help," said Sam. "But I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you."

"I said some pretty horrible things," said Baird. "Sam, I'm…" he began, but he was cut off by Hayman walking into the room, followed by Marcus.

"He's in pain," said Sam.

"What's new?" asked Baird, with a sigh.

"If you're in pain, you can't rest," said Hayman. "And in order to beat this infection, you need to rest. I believe we've had this conversation before."

"You're a fucking idiot, with no self-preservation instinct," said Marcus.

"I'm very good at looking out for number one, actually," said Baird. "Just ask Cole."

"Then why won't you take the damn painkillers?" asked Marcus.

"You know why," said Baird.

"You're not going to get addicted, Baird," said Sam.

Hayman was nodding. "I'll keep the dosage low and we'll bring you off gradually before you leave the Medical Centre. The only reason you got addicted before was because you had to take higher than recommended dosages to combat the pain you were in from doing things that you shouldn't have been attempting at that point in your recovery."

Baird met Marcus' eyes. Marcus knew the full story and had been there while Baird shivered his way through withdrawal in Jacinto.

"Take the morphen, Baird. You don't deserve to be in pain," said Marcus. "Hayman knows what she's doing."

"Fine, give me the good drugs," said Baird. "But if I get addicted them I'll make sure your quarters never get hot water again."

Hayman had apparently brought the "good drugs" with her because she whipped out a syringe and stabbed it into his IV port without further comment. It only took a few moments for it to start to work and Baird to begin to feel a little floaty. It was something else that he hated about strong painkillers, but his leg did hurt a lot less.

"The good news is that since the antibiotics are now working to clear the infection, we should be able to save the leg," said Hayman.

"Save the leg?" asked Baird, with alarm. "I didn't know there was a chance I could lose it."

"Osteomyelitis, Baird," said Sam. "That's an infection in your bone, and why it's important to clean the leg frame really carefully."

"Yeah, I think I've grasped that now. I really could have lost the leg?" Baird was getting tired again and the morphen was making him sleepy.

Hayman nodded. "Luckily we found the right antibiotic but I'm going to be keeping a close eye on you for the next few days."

"Great, just great," said Baird. "So I'm stuck here for how long?"

"At least a week," said Hayman. "I've got a lot of IV antibiotics to pump into you. We'll see how you're doing after that."

"I can't lie around here for a week or more," said Baird. He was thinking about all the work that Brennan had backing up in the workshop because her boss had been stupid enough to pick up an infection. However he was also ignoring the fact that he still felt like crap and probably would for a while yet given that he was still fighting off said infection.

"You've had a fever and been mostly unconscious for the last three days," said Marcus. "You need the downtime."

As if to prove it, Baird yawned. "What I need is a new leg."

"Sorry, you're stuck with the old one," said Sam.

"Only two more weeks and then I'll be able to take off the frame and you can have a support instead," said Hayman.

"Thank god," said Baird with feeling. "For just a second I was thinking that chopping it off might actually have been the better option."

"Don't even joke," said Sam. "We've just spent two days going through hell so that you could keep it."

Baird actually looked at Sam then, and realised that she looked beyond tired. All her body language was telling him that she was exhausted and he hadn't even noticed until now because he was too caught up in himself.

"You sat with me, didn't you?" he asked, looking at Sam and then up at Marcus.

"Me, Sam and Cole. We divided up the time between us. Someone had to be around to pull you out of whatever shitty nightmare you were having," said Marcus.

Baird just had no idea how to reply to that. So he rubbed at his tired eyes and processed this information for a few seconds. He felt like he'd been laid bare. Cut to the bone for the world to see his most private thoughts. He knew the kinds of nightmares that he got and there was a reason why he was usually only okay with Cole seeing them, and even then he wasn't really happy with it.

"You didn't have to do that," he said. "Please tell me that I didn't scream for my Mom or something."

"Your secret's safe with us, Baird," said Marcus, teasingly. Apparently everyone was just going to ignore what had probably been witnessed whilst he was delirious with fever, and he was thoroughly grateful for that.

"Guys, can I have a moment with Sam, please? Before I fall asleep again?"

Marcus nodded and he and Hayman left the room without another word.

"Why did you stay?" asked Baird. "We're barely on speaking terms."

"Baird, I know you're having a lot of trouble getting your head around this, but I care about you. I found you in your office, half unconscious, and you think I'm just going to walk away?"

"Come on, Sam. I know you'd call the medics first, but I didn't expect you to sit at my bedside. You hate me," said Baird.

"I should, but I don't," said Sam, and with that she got to her feet and planted a kiss on Baird's lips. It wasn't particularly passionate, but there was the promise of more behind it.

Baird's face reflected his utter confusion as Sam leaned against the bed rail around his bed and looked down at him. He had no words and just blinked up at her.

"The problem here isn't whether I like you, Damon. The problem is that you don't like yourself, so you can't even imagine why I'd want to be with you," said Sam. "I'm going to make this really clear: I didn't kiss you because I felt sorry for you. I'm a big girl, and I knew what I was getting into. I kissed you because I'm interested in a relationship with you."

"Sam, I don't know if I can do this," said Baird. "I don't want to hurt you, and you know the situation with my epilepsy. You're going to end up being my carer not my girlfriend."

"You're over thinking this. Why don't we do what other couples do and take it one day at a time?"

"What about Daniel Carmine?" asked Baird.

"What about him?" asked Sam.

"You like him," said Baird.

"I hardly know him. He's the brother of a good friend," said Sam. "I don't want to date him."

Baird frowned at this new information. He was so tired and he really wanted to continue this conversation but it was getting harder by the second to keep his eyes open. He reached out a wobbly hand to Sam and she took it.

"Sam, I'm an idiot. Can we just accept that and start over?"

Sam chuckled and squeezed his hand. "Okay, you're forgiven, but you're on serious pain medication right now, and this probably isn't the best time or place to talk. We'll sort this all out when you can stay awake long enough to argue back, okay?"

"Okay," murmured Baird, tiredly, "in my defence, I do officially have brain damage," he added.

"Shut up, Damon," said Sam, teasingly, "you're ruining your apology." And that was the last thing he heard as his eyes fell shut and he slept, dreaming happily of Samantha Byrne.


	17. Chapter 17

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

* * *

It was a little over a week before Hayman allowed Baird to leave the Medical Centre, by which point he was almost back to his usual annoying self. During this time Delta were persuaded that they didn't need to continue their oppressive guard duty and Baird was left to sleep in peace with occasional visits from his rather overprotective squad mates. Sam located the chess board, which had been left in the common room cupboard for a while now, and she spent her afternoons playing Baird in game after game until they'd both had enough, or Baird fell asleep, whichever came first. Sam won more than her fair share because Baird just couldn't think straight until Hayman took him off the morphen, and then he made up for it by winning almost every game.

Her relationship with Baird hadn't progressed much beyond quick kisses, occasional hand holding, worrying about his recovery, and discussions of chess games. This was partly because it was hard to do much more with the medics, or the doctor, coming in every five minutes to check on something or take Baird somewhere for an x-ray or a scan. And partly because Baird was mildly stoned on the painkillers and therefore not in the right frame of mind for the discussion that they needed to have. He had a habit of just staring off into space for minutes at a time until Sam reminded him that she was there or forgetting what they were talking about, which really annoyed him. They'd also both agreed that Baird being stuck in a hospital bed, plugged into a catheter, with a drip stuck in the back of his hand, and liable to fall asleep at any given moment, just wasn't particularly a turn on for either of them. They officially shelved serious discussion until Baird was out of the Med Centre.

Baird didn't have any problems coming off the morphen, just as Hayman had promised, but he also refused to stay on it a moment longer than necessary, even when he was clearly in pain. It was still several days of medication that he'd have preferred not to have taken, and Sam practically had to argue the merits of every single dose with him, but there wasn't a single cramp when he came off. Sam could see how relieved he was about that. She hadn't known Delta quite so well back in Jacinto and had only vaguely heard about his suffering through the withdrawal in Jacinto Med. It was so common during the Locust War for Gears to become addicted to morphen after an injury that she hadn't even thought much about it. She'd been lucky herself and never had anything more than a bullet graze. Clearly it had been an experience which Baird wasn't going to forget and definitely didn't want to repeat. He still refused to take the note off his medical file which specified that they needed his permission to give him morphen or amorphan.

When the day finally came for Baird to leave, Sam was nearly as happy as he was. Of course his good mood evaporated quickly when Cole wheeled his long abandoned wheelchair into the room. Baird was sat on the bed and Sam had been helping to get him dressed, although he was being unhelpfully stubborn about accepting her help.

Baird folded his arms across his chest. "No," he said.

Cole just gave him an incredulous look. "I suppose you think that you're going to make it back to your quarters on your crutches? 'Cos I can tell you now, baby, that's a delusion that just isn't worth the pain."

"I said no," replied Baird. "I'm done with that thing."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Just get in the damn chair. I'm not getting shouted at by Hayman for setting back your recovery again. You did hear her when she threatened to keep the cage on for an extra week if you didn't take more care?"

Baird glared at Sam. "I'm surrounded by overprotective morons."

"Better that than the other kind," said Cole. "You scared us, baby, so you're going to have to put up with the mother hen routine for a few days."

"Geez guys, it was a fever."

"You nearly died, and you could have lost your leg," said Sam, crossly. "What part of that do you think we might be okay with?"

"You mean you won't be poisoning my dinner later?"

Sam punched Baird in the arm. It was not okay for him to say stuff like that when he'd been in the hospital for a week and put everyone through hell. He could be breathtakingly callous at times, but this was what she'd signed up for when she said they'd try being a couple.

"Ouch," complained Baird, like a wuss. "Still an invalid, remember?"

Cole was trying not to laugh at Baird's expense but failing horribly.

"If you get in the chair now," said Sam, picking up the crutches, "you can have your crutches back after PT."

Baird sighed but did as she asked, gingerly sliding off the bed and hanging onto her as he hopped the single hop to the wheelchair. She knew that it was only because it was just her and Cole that he was letting them see that he was still weak from his illness. Once they were out of the Med Centre then he'd be doing his best to prove to people that he was recovered. Apparently he also hadn't worked out that he was going to be worn out after PT and would be better off in the wheelchair. She'd cross that bridge when they came to it, and she was betting that he'd just give in.

"So, what's been going on whilst I've been out of commission?"

Sam handed Baird his radio, which Hayman had refused to let him have in the Med Centre. The doctor had wanted Baird to actually rest rather than listening in to what was going on around the island.

"Oh the usual stuff, harbour patrols still haven't seen any sign of our Ostrian friends, they've nearly finished clearing the rubble from the Maelstrom tower," said Sam. "And Anvegad council want to put Clone Prescott on trial for war crimes."

"What? How is that going to help anyone?" asked Baird as Cole wheeled him out of the Med Centre, and towards his quarters.

"They're just looking for someone to blame," said Cole. "I can see why they're all jumping on him. He's got the face of a guy who made some pretty dubious decisions."

"In other words, he's a convenient scape goat for all of Sera's woes," said Baird. "Hoffman should have just left him in the basement."

"All that would have done was postpone the problem," said Sam. "Anyway, Anya's spent the week trying to talk them out of it and pointing out that he doesn't really remember anything. When they wouldn't back down, she started looking for anyone who had experience of law."

"Hey, Cole and I were once put on trial for war crimes, do you think that counts?" asked Baird.

"I think that was what they call a kangaroo court," said Cole, "And I wouldn't take it as a good example of how to conduct a trial. That bastard Loomis nearly shot us."

"And if you're using that as experience then Marcus probably has more," said Sam.

"Hey, at least he did the crime. We were saving lives," said Baird. "And our experience with the Lightmass tech meant we got the job planting the resonator, which meant that we met Marcus and Dom, and the rest, as they say, is history. Glorious, glorious history where we saved the world."

Cole and Sam's radios clicked at them to let them know that someone was trying to contact them.

"Fenix to Byrne and Cole. Have you sprung Baird from the Med Centre yet?"

"Yeah, we've got him," said Cole.

Baird tapped his own earpiece, hitting the squad frequency. "I've got my radio back and everything. What's up, boss?"

"All sorts of exciting stuff," said Marcus, dryly. "Get your ass to Anya's office and we'll discuss it all in person. Assuming your keepers are happy with you getting back to work?"

"I think he can take it," said Cole.

"Yeah, but don't be surprised if he needs a nap later," teased Sam.

Baird glared at her.

"Roger that," said Marcus. "Fenix out."

"He couldn't just tell us over the radio," said Baird.

Cole reversed direction and they made their way up to Ops and Anya's office. Marcus and Anya were stood looking at a map.

"Okay, so what can I help you with?" asked Baird, as Cole wheeled him into the room.

"Satellite images, but first things first. I found a chemist," said Anya. "She's from the Emerald Spar."

"So she's a platform chemist, used to testing imulsion and now out of a job. How does that help me?" asked Baird.

"A chemist is a chemist, baby," said Cole. "That's got to be better than nothing."

Anya nodded. "That's what I thought. The Gorasni are running short of medicine too, so we all need to find a solution to this before more people die. We explained your problem and she said she'd do her best to help, because apparently you and Cole saved her life on the Emerald Spar."

Baird frowned and then looked over at Cole. "It can't be flamethrower lady?"

"Aurelie Dersau," said Marcus.

"Oh yeah," said Cole, "that's her."

Baird looked a little taken aback by this. Sam remembered the woman with the flamethrower. She'd decided that polyps were like cockroaches and had burned them off her rig with insane enthusiasm. Cole had pulled her out of the water when the rig had gone down due to the stalks and polyps putting too many holes in it.

"What's the matter, Baird? Girls can't be chemists?" asked Sam.

"I don't know, it's just that when the first time you meet someone they have a flamethrower in their hands, you tend to form certain opinions about them," said Baird. "She didn't take any prisoners. I'm finding it hard to think of her as a scientist."

"Yeah, because you've never picked up a gun and taken down a field of polyps in your life," said Marcus.

"Okay, you have a point," said Baird, "but she's still the wrong kind of chemist."

"Well, she's currently on a Raven out from Gorasnaya, so you can question her credentials in person." Anya was clearly not in the mood for Baird to argue on this one. "The Raven will be here in a couple of hours, so she's going to need a lab to work in. I was thinking that it's time we put your finds in the Embry labs to use. You reported that there was all the equipment there to start a pharmaceuticals lab."

Baird nodded. Sam saw him put a hand out to steady himself because he'd moved his head a little too quickly for his inner ear to keep up. "Yeah, and it looks like it's all in working order. She'll be in chemistry heaven."

"Good. I'd like you and Cole to be at the Raven pad to meet her. You can take her up to the labs and show her around. Assuming you're up to it?"

"I'll be fine," said Baird, which was his typical answer to questions like the one Anya had just asked. If he ever told them the truth then they'd probably be too surprised to take it in.

"You'll be worn out," said Sam. "You've got PT later too."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll find time for an afternoon nap," said Baird.

"Make sure you do," said Marcus. "I don't want any more Baird related emergency calls because you're not looking after yourself."

"I'll do my best not to trouble you with my dying next time," spat out Baird.

Sam had been wondering how long this was going to take. Everyone had been being far too nice to Baird while he was in the Med Centre. So apparently they were going to have this out now.

"That isn't the issue," replied Marcus. "The issue is that we thought we could trust you to be a grown up and follow Hayman's instructions, and instead we find out that you're having trouble and not asking for help. Do you have an actual death wish? Because it's beginning to seem like you don't want to stay around."

"No, I don't have a death wish," said Baird, with real anger. "Why do people keep asking me that? This was just…"

"What?" asked Marcus, equally angry now. "You knew what you had to do and you didn't do it."

"I was busy and I just didn't think it would matter, okay?" said Baird. "And why do you care anyway? You're not the one who spent the week in the Med Centre."

"No, I'm just one of the people that sat beside you while your fevered brain relived every Locust firefight you've ever been in," said Marcus.

Baird opened his mouth and then shut it, looking away. Sam recognised the way he was holding himself, and it was how he looked when you actually had the real Baird. This was the man who had no defences left because he was too tired to put up his usual barriers of obnoxious attitude and sarcasm. He was too tired to pretend.

"Shit," said Baird, quietly. "What is it with you people? Can't you just leave me alone? I didn't ask any of you to…"

"Hey, dickhead," said Marcus, effectively stopping Baird mid-tirade. "Do you want to try remembering who we are?"

Sam wasn't quite sure what was going to happen next, so she leant on Anya's desk and just watched. Whatever it was would concern all of Delta, but Marcus was going to be the one to take the lead here. Baird was looking like he either wanted to hit him, or run away, but he didn't have the energy to do either.

"Marcus, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about," said Baird, managing to appear both angry and confused at the same time.

"We're Delta. We're your squad," said Marcus. "That's just the way that it's always going to be, because we went through some serious shit together. And you're ours, Damon."

"Damon?" asked Baird, anger fading and leaving him simply confused. "Okay, now you're just worrying me and I still don't get the point you're trying to make."

"Brothers call each other by their first names," said Marcus, simply. "This squad is our family."

"I'm not Dom," said Baird.

"I didn't say you were," replied Marcus, "and I'm not looking to replace him. I can have more than one brother. But do you understand why I'm so damn angry at you now?"

Baird hesitated and then nodded. Marcus had his hand out to steady him before Baird had even begun to wobble. Sam marvelled at this briefly. When had everyone started compensating for Baird's disability with such ease? She'd done it herself, and it had happened so stealthily that she'd never even noticed the little allowances that they all made.

"Do you realise just how stupid it would have been if you'd died from an infection that was easily prevented, after all the shit that this squad has gone through?" asked Marcus.

"About as stupid as me dying from falling off a roof?" said Baird, trying for his usual irreverent tone and falling somewhat short.

"Hey, that wasn't your fault," said Cole, apparently deciding that it was safe to chip in. "But losing a leg because you wouldn't ask for help, that would have been just dumb. And I don't think my heart can take getting another call to the Med Centre to see you being wheeled into emergency surgery."

Baird looked away from Cole, unable to maintain the eye contact.

"Guys," said Baird, and then stopped. He took a deep breath before continuing. "This is hard for me. I can't promise you that I won't screw up again, because lately that's all I seem to do."

He gave a quick glance in Sam's direction, but only Cole seemed to have noticed.

"We all make mistakes, but I haven't seen you making more than anyone else," said Anya. "I think that because you've been depressed, it just feels that way to you."

"Baird, we just want you to take better care of yourself and to start remembering that we're here," said Sam.

"How could I forget?" said Baird. "You're like a bunch of limpets."

"Because if we're not then you do stupid stuff," said Cole. "If you do less stupid stuff then we'll stop checking up on you."

Marcus was nodding in agreement.

"Okay!" said Baird, with exasperation and gesturing with both hands. "I'm sorry I scared everyone and I'll try to do better next time. All right? Is that good enough for you?"

"It'll do," said Marcus, gruffly, but Sam could tell that both men were genuine in their acceptance of the situation. Baird would really try to take better care, and Marcus would accept his word on that.

Anya was getting a bottle out of her desk cupboard and five glasses. She poured a light brown liquid into the glasses.

"Something left behind by my predecessor," said Anya. "Dury had good taste."

Sam smiled at that. The bottle's label told her that this was a really good bottle of rum, and Anya didn't get this out for just anyone. She handed round the glasses, giving one to Baird which had rather less in it than the others.

"I can't drink this," said Baird, with disappointment. "It doesn't mix well with my epilepsy medication."

"I checked with Hayman," said Anya, "she said one small one would be fine, but you might find it goes straight to your head. She also said not to ask again for a while."

"You planned this?" asked Baird, with surprise.

"Well, it was supposed to be a "we're glad you're not dead" drink," said Anya.

"I guess now it's more a "please try not to put yourself in the Med Centre again" drink," said Sam, with a slight smile on her lips.

"Oh well, a drink is a drink," said Baird. He looked like he was about to down it in one, but Sam put a finger on the top of the glass.

"Sip it, slowly," said Sam. "This is the good stuff."

"And wait for the toast," added Anya.

Baird sighed. Sam knew he hated being told what to do.

"There's a toast?" asked Cole.

"Oh yeah," said Marcus, with a tiny bit of resignation in his tone. "Like she said, she's been planning this."

Anya glared at Marcus, but it was a teasing, fake glare that held no ire behind it. She turned back to the group.

"We've all been through a lot lately, and with all this Prescott stuff and the Ostrians, we've probably got a difficult few weeks ahead of us. I thought we should have a second to celebrate something good happening, because we _are_ all glad that you're back on the road to recovery, Baird."

Anya held her glass up. "To the weirdly fucked up family that is Delta. May we all survive it with our sanity intact."

"To Delta," replied the rest of the assembled Gears.

Glasses were clinked and murmurs of amused agreement made. Alcohol was drunk and then they returned to the business at hand.

"Okay," said Anya. "If Baird's still up for it, can we look at these satellite images?"

Sam saw that Baird had relaxed a little. He wasn't holding himself like he was about to make a run for it, and, for once, he actually seemed at ease amongst his friends.

* * *

Cole and Baird met Aurelie Dersau at the helicopter pad as she got off KR Eight-Zero. Cole greeted her with his usual enthusiasm, Baird with his normal indifference.

"Well this is an unexpected reunion," said Baird. "I guess they wouldn't let you bring your flamethrower on the chopper."

That was a pretty standard Baird comment except he said it in Gorasni, and Cole had to ask him what he'd said.

"Since when do you speak Gorasni?" asked Cole.

"What did you think I was doing on that boat to Azura? Chatting up the lovely Gorasni sailors?"

"You got them to teach you Gorasni?"

Cole wasn't that surprised by this revelation. Baird just simply couldn't do nothing. Every minute of his day had to be taken up with some kind of activity. It was why his quarters were, once again, full of machine parts, why trying to persuade him to rest was always hard work, and why he was such a pain in the ass when he was bored. When Baird was faced with down time, he filled it with fixing things or learning stuff.

"Yeah, well, Eugen gave me a couple of lessons as well," said Baird.

Eugen was a name that Baird didn't say much, and he said it quickly this time. Borusc Eugen was a Gorasni imulsion rig worker on the Emerald Spar, like Aurelie. He and Baird had got on pretty well, which was unusual and Cole had been happy that Baird might actually be making a friend. But Eugen had been killed on Vectes and Baird had slammed down the walls, refusing to even discuss the incident.

Aurelie was smiling at this exchange. She replied in Gorasni that Baird clearly understood, and Cole felt just a little left out. Baird said something, fumbled for a word and Aurelie provided it.

"Damn, you're going to have to teach me too," said Cole.

"Sorry, we're being rude," said Aurelie. "His Gorasni nearly better than my Tyran, but the accent could use work."

"Hah," said Baird. "Yours too. Have you got all your stuff off the Raven? We should get you to the lab so you can start getting set up."

Aurelie nodded, looking over at Gill Gettner, the pilot of KR Eight-Zero, who had been helping to unload the Raven with her Crew Chief, Nat Barber.

"That's it," said Gettner. "Hey, Baird, good to see you out and about again. I heard you helped put my baby back together."

"Yeah, you know they can't manage without me," quipped Baird.

"So you're on the mend?" asked Gettner. The question was directed at Baird, but she flicker her eyes quickly to Cole to include him. It was funny how everyone knew they wouldn't get an honest answer out of Baird.

"Mostly," replied Baird. "The cage comes off in just less than a week. Not that I'm counting the days or anything."

Cole nodded, deciding not to say anything about his most recent Med Centre visit.

"Yeah, we're all looking forward to that," said Cole, with an amused grin that Gettner returned.

"I bet he's been a pain in the backside," said Gettner.

"You have no idea," replied Cole.

"Hey, you try having a complex leg fracture and see how you like it," replied Baird.

"And you had such a sunny personality to begin with," teased Gettner.

"How did you hurt leg?" asked Aurelie.

"I fell off a roof," said Baird, with a shrug and left it at that.

"Gil, we need to clear the pad, KR Five-Three is coming in from Anvil Gate on the weekly shuttle run," said Barber. "Mel is asking us nicely if we'd like to get our butts in the air."

"One of these days we'll get to hang around for a drink," said Gettner, hopping down from the Raven and moving around to the pilot's door.

"We'll hold you to that," said Cole. "Safe flying."

Gettner gave them a goodbye wave, and Cole, Baird and Aurelie retreated away from the helicopter landing pad to give Gettner the room she needed to take off. She powered up the engines, got the rotors up to speed, and then smoothly lifted into the air. Everyone turned away from the backwash of the rotor blades, which was kicking up all kinds of dust and grit from the ground. They watched Gettner arc into the course back to Anvil Gate and head away from Azura.

Cole had tuned into the Raven radio frequency when KR Eight-Zero came into land, and he knew that Baird had done the same thing, so they both heard KR Five-Three broadcast the May Day signal.

"This is KR Five-Three to Azura Control, I just lost power to the main rotors," said the voice of Mel Sorotki. "I repeat I just lost power to the main rotors. I'm declaring an emergency. May Day. May Day."

"Shit," said Baird. He knew more about helicopters than Cole, so probably was aware of exactly how much trouble Five-Three was in. "Can you see them yet?"

Cole shook his head and then picked up the black spot coming their way. "Over there," said Cole, pointing at the sky.

"They're already on auto rotate," said Baird, squinting at the dot. "Baird to KR Eight-Zero, Five-Three isn't going to make the island, they haven't got enough power. Be ready for air-sea rescue."

"Baird, this is KR Eight-Zero. We see them. We'll follow them in. Barber's got the winch ready."

On the other channel, Cole could hear Operations despatching boats and medics, and asking Sorotki if he thought he'd make it to the landing pad.

Sorotki sounded tense but together. "I've tried every trick I know to get this thing to restart. We're not going to make the pad. We'll be ditching in the ocean. I've got Eight-Zero on my right, coming in for support."

They could hear the sounds of both sets of rotor blades now and the second set was too slow to carry a helicopter far. Cole knew that Sorotki was a good pilot. He'd been the one to grab Marcus off the back of a Brumak before they sank Jacinto. However, even a good pilot had trouble ditching a Raven safely on water. Pilots went through drills to get them ready for exactly this kind of scenario but Cole was willing to bet that Sorotki and his Crew Chief, Mitchell, hadn't done one of those for many years. Pilots were always in high demand and they were needed out flying, not training for something that might never happen. Not that the COG actually had training facilities anymore anyway.

He could hear Aurelie swearing beside him in florid Gorasni. He didn't know what she was saying but the Gorasni language seemed to have a lot of good swear words that sounded like there was some real vitriol behind them. The three of them were standing watching in horrified awe, because there was nothing else for them to do. Sorotki was bringing the Raven down as slowly and gently as he could, but he just didn't have much control. It hit the ocean surface with a crash, sending water splashing out in all directions, and then began to roll over.

"Oh shit," said Baird. He'd pushed himself out of his chair and to his feet so that he could get a better look at what was going on.

The downed chopper wasn't that far off from the shore and they were lucky that the weather was good and the sea was calm. It had still come down in deep, cold water and all anyone could do was hope that the rescue teams were able to fish Sorotki and Mitchell out of the water as quickly as possible. They could see KR Eight-Zero hovering over the crash site and Barber getting the winch ready, but so far there was no sign of the helicopter crew. The boat was approaching the sinking helicopter, but wouldn't want to get too close and risk hitting the survivors.

Cole could see Carmine and Jace on the boat with Kappa squad. Jace was suited up and ready to go diving with the rest of his squad. He watched Jace and another diver drop into the water and it seemed an age before they emerged with the two men who had been in the Raven. Barber didn't waste any time in getting first one and then the second winched up into the helicopter, which rapidly headed off towards the Medical Centre. Cole wasn't sure where they were going to land but they'd winch down their passengers if they had to.

Everyone was breathing a sigh of relief at the rescue of the Raven crew, and the boat with its divers was returning to the dock. Cole turned around to see Anya and Marcus jog up.

"What happened?" asked Marcus. "We heard the radio traffic."

"No clue," said Baird. "They said they lost power to the main rotors."

"Yeah, and then they took a nose dive into the bay," said Cole. "Jace and his squad pulled them out."

Baird was frowning. "You know, one Raven going down could be a maintenance issue, or just the age of the aircraft, or any one of a hundred factors. But two going down within a few weeks of one another? I'd say that's statistically very unlikely. I need the black box out of that thing."

"Corporal Brennan's going to be handling the crash investigation," said Anya.

"What?" asked Baird. "I'm in charge of the workshop. I should be the one to lead the investigation."

"You've just got out of the Med Centre," said Anya, "you're not up to taking this on," but something wasn't quite right with the tone of her reply. If Cole didn't know her better, he'd have said she just made an excuse for her decision and not one that she believed either. She'd rather have had Baird on this, but for some reason she didn't want him anywhere near it.

"I'm fine," said Baird. "I said I'd rest when I feel tired. What more do you want from me?"

"You've got a pharmaceuticals lab to set up," said Anya. "That's plenty to have on your plate."

Marcus was giving her a strange look too, but as soon as he noticed Cole watching him, it disappeared.

"Screw that. I'm not a chemist and you need me on this," said Baird. "Brennan doesn't have any experience of investigating a crash."

"She'll do just fine," said Marcus. "You trained her, so let her do her job."

"Fine, what do I care if we find out what happened? I'll just have to repair the damn thing when you lot are finished with it," said Baird, and sat down heavily in his wheelchair. "Come on, Cole, let's get out of here."

Cole nodded. "Sure, Baird. Aurelie, we'll take you up to your lab now."

The three of them moved off towards the Embry labs. If Cole had realised how much trouble the downed Raven was about to cause them, then he might have been more inclined to push for answers, but at the moment all he had was an uneasy feeling that something wasn't right. That wasn't enough for him to start getting angry yet.

* * *

Marcus turned to Anya. She'd just finished hearing Gettner's report on the incident and was relieved to be told that Sorotki and Mitchell were alive when they'd been fished out of the water, although not exactly in the best of shape. Marcus had listened in and was aware that Gettner was coming back round to try to pick up the sinking helicopter. The divers were back out to begin the recovery mission, and there wasn't much more that he and Anya could do from standing on the dockside.

"You know that Baird would be the best person to do the investigation. Why did you tell him Brennan would do it?" asked Marcus.

Anya's face showed worry as she answered. "I'm about to put out an order to ground all the Ravens in the fleet, and that means that whoever was doing this is going to know that we've worked out something is wrong. The only person that we can actually exonerate is the person who brought the sabotage to our attention, everyone else is still a suspect and whether we like it or not, that includes Baird. He can't be involved in the investigation."

Marcus nodded with understanding. Everything that Anya did now was important. At some point all of this was going to come out in the open and they would have to be able to say that they'd conducted the investigation properly. It was why Hoffman had given it to Bernie, because he could trust her to be thorough.

"Has Bernie got anywhere?" asked Marcus.

Anya shook her head. "She's eliminated a few people because they didn't have the knowledge to do it, but someone could be downplaying their abilities. She's started digging into personnel files, not that we have many, but some of our computer database disks made it off Sovereign. Bernie was supposed to be coming out here next week to see what we've got in the Azura files. She wanted to take a look at the list of civilian scientists that Prescott was planning to bring here and see if any of them were still around. Some of them might have survived and they'd have the programming expertise. Hoffman's been thinking a lot about Aspho Point and the UIR scientists we brought back. They were all Ostrians and would have a grudge against us. They could be going by false names to blend in. But I don't like talking about this in the open. If anyone overhears us…"

"We'll have a witch hunt on our hands," said Marcus.

"Exactly," said Anya. "And we're now looking at attempted murder on top of espionage charges. The stakes get higher when people have been hurt. I need to get to Ops and put that call in. Until we've caught the saboteur we're going to be without our Ravens and that means we're going to have to cancel our fly-by of the Ostrian coast."

"We have the satellite images that Baird got for us. We've got more data than we've had in while on their movements," said Marcus. "But we can't put off a real recon much longer."

"We can't get there easily without a Raven. It's a long boat ride otherwise," said Anya.

"It might come to that," said Marcus. "Going to the source might be the only way to deal with this."

"I'm beginning to agree with you, but I don't want to start a war. We're still barely subsisting and we don't have the resources to mount an attack," said Anya.

"Then we go for a surgical strike," said Marcus.

Anya raised an eyebrow. He knew that she was giving his idea serious consideration. "If you can put together a plan that has a good chance of working, then I'll consider it," she said.

"Leave it with me," said Marcus.

* * *

The skies around Anvil Gate were quiet. Hoffman found it somewhat eerie but he'd approved Anya's decision to ground their Ravens for the time being. It meant that Gettner and Barber were currently stuck on Azura, but he was fairly sure that they wouldn't mind the time off. In fact, all the Raven crews could use some downtime so it wasn't all bad news. The official reason that was being given was that a maintenance problem had been identified and was now being corrected. People seemed to believe it and he wanted it to stay that way until Bernie had completed her investigation.

The distrust that this had the potential to breed might be disastrous. He even found himself looking at people differently and checking for any sign that they weren't who they said they were. He'd thought that was bad enough until Lewis Gavriel had knocked on his door. Mayor Gavriel had been very reasonable during his time in charge of the town of Pelruan on Vectes, but now that they weren't under siege by the Lambent, his outlook seemed to have changed. He was becoming more and more the politician as the days passed and Hoffman wasn't sure that he liked the change.

The two men were sat in the Fort Commandant's office, sipping what passed for tea in Anvil Gate. It was just edging into autumn at Anvegad and there had been the first chill to the air this morning. The grate where the fire would usually burn was still unused for the time being though.

"Colonel, I heard some disturbing news from Azura," said Gavriel. "I gather a helicopter went down in the bay."

"Yes, I've sent out an order to ground the fleet until we can work out what went wrong," said Hoffman. "Initial investigations think it was a maintenance problem."

"I trust the crew were recovered safely," said Gavriel.

"They're a bit banged up, but Doctor Hayman tells me that they should recover," said Hoffman.

"You'll have to forgive my bluntness, but this is the second helicopter that's had a maintenance problem. A report has come into my hands that suggests it could potentially have been sabotage," said Gavriel. "I'd like to know why you didn't report this to the council. We have a right to know if there's a traitor in our midst."

Hoffman did his best to maintain a neutral expression, but it was hard. "Actually you don't. This is a military matter. How did you get hold of a classified report?"

"I can't reveal my source, but they obviously had the good of the COG at heart," said Gavriel. "Besides, I think that's somewhat irrelevant. The point is that you're hunting a traitor and we should have been informed. We are capable of keeping something a secret."

"I don't want to start a panic," said Hoffman "The less people who know the better, and it concerns me that you don't see the problem with someone leaking a confidential document."

Gavriel seemed to ignore that comment. "Who do you have conducting the investigation?" he asked.

"Sergeant Mataki," said Hoffman. He wasn't sure which way Gavriel would take his decision to give the task to Bernie.

"Sensible choice," said Gavriel. "I'd imagine you chose her because you're certain of her allegiances."

"I've known Sergeant Mataki for a long time and she travelled half way across Sera to re-join her regiment. She's above suspicion," said Hoffman, not particularly pleased to be defending his partner to Gavriel.

"But she is friends with someone on the list of suspects," said Gavriel.

Hoffman frowned now. "She doesn't know the aircrew particularly well. Most of them were based on Sovereign until it went down and they moved to the Raven's nest here."

"I understand that, but the mechanics at Azura are also under suspicion, surely?" asked Gavriel. "I gather that Corporal Brennan and Sergeant Baird both have the expertise to sabotage the Ravens, and Baird is a friend of Sergeant Mataki."

"She punched him out once, if that's what you mean," said Hoffman. "Besides, Baird was seriously injured during some repair work on Azura and he's only just been allowed to return to light duties. He was in a wheelchair and on sick leave when the first Raven went down."

"Your relationship with Delta squad is pretty well known, Colonel, and by extension Sergeant Mataki knows them all too. I'm told Sergeant Baird refers to her as "Granny" and still seems to have all his teeth," said Gavriel. "And having read the report, it states that the sabotage could have been done at any time in the past few months, so Sergeant Baird's accident isn't really relevant."

Hoffman could see where this was going, but unlike Gavriel, he wasn't a politician and heading this off was beyond him.

"I can only assure you that Sergeant Mataki will examine the evidence and come to a balanced conclusion. It doesn't matter who she knows and who she's friends with, she wouldn't let that stop her from investigating properly," said Hoffman.

"But you can see how it might look from the outside, Colonel," said Gavriel. "I think you should consider removing her as an investigator on the case."

"And I suppose you have someone in mind to replace her? Perhaps Sergeant Brand?"

"She really has been an excellent liaison officer," said Gavriel. "I'd be happy to provide her with a team of assistants with relevant skills and it would mean we could point to the impartiality of the investigating team when later questioned about this incident by our citizens."

"Yes, we do have to keep up appearances, don't we," said Hoffman, with thinly veiled sarcasm. "It wouldn't have been Sergeant Brand who informed you about the report?"

"I've already said that I can't tell you who it was that leaked the report," said Gavriel. "I don't want to get anyone in trouble and I think they did the right thing."

Hoffman was going to take that as confirmation. He'd love to know how Alex Brand found out about the sabotaged helicopter and he'd love even more to know how she got hold of Brennan's report.

"I see," said Hoffman. "Maybe the best way forward is a joint investigation. Brand and her team can join Mataki. She can bring them up to speed more quickly that way."

He really hated being manoeuvred like this and Bernie was going to flat out murder him when she found out that she had to work with Alex Brand. As soon as she'd met her, Bernie had taken a dislike to Brand. When Hoffman had asked why, she mentioned that it was partly about what Bernie saw as Brand's lack of professionalism and partly the way that she'd treated Baird. She didn't like the things that Brand said about the engineer or the way she insulted him. The fact that Baird gave as good as he got apparently didn't come into it.

Everyone in Delta understood that what came out of Baird's mouth didn't necessarily match up with what went on inside his brain. Bernie herself had struggled with that at first, until she'd worked out that it was just a defence mechanism. After that she'd been as protective as the rest of Delta, who were allowed to insult Baird to their heart's content, but tended to get annoyed if anyone else had a go at him. Hoffman found it faintly amusing.

Gavriel was frowning. "I'd be happy to agree to that arrangement, but Sergeant Brand would need to be the lead investigator and Sergeant Mataki would have to recuse herself from the investigation if any evidence comes to light to implicate any member of Delta squad in this."

Hoffman wasn't happy about that, but the only way to refuse was to make himself look unreasonable. He knew that they weren't going to find anything on anyone in Delta, but he still didn't like the implication. It was much more likely that they'd find the culprit in Anvil Gate's helicopter maintenance crew, or that it was a civilian hiding in plain sight in Anvegad, than on Azura. It sounded like Gavriel was trying to use this as a power grab of some kind, perhaps to give Alex more of a foothold in the military command structure. Perhaps he was hoping to get someone on his side in with the brass. He still couldn't work out exactly what was going on here.

"Very well, Mayor. Sergeant Mataki's going across to Azura this afternoon to examine some relevant files over there. I'll inform her that Sergeant Brand and her team will be joining her," said Hoffman. And then he'd duck and cover.

* * *

Baird didn't know quite how to react to Marcus's "Delta is your family" speech. If Marcus had said all of that four years ago, then he'd have run a mile in the opposite direction to get away from him. But that was before Dom died, and Tai died, and Baird lost half of Sigma in the Hollow, men that he'd been responsible for, and before Marcus drove for three days to get him back to Jacinto Med. Things were just different now, and somehow Marcus's declaration that he was his brother didn't make Baird want to retreat away from these people. It made him feel like he belonged.

It also made him feel incredibly guilty about the fact that he'd really been a jerk lately, and an idiot. And, again, before he'd joined Delta he'd never worried too much about being a jerk, because he didn't really care what people thought about him. Now he'd somehow ended up with friends who sat by his hospital bed and worried about him when he was sick. The only person in his life who'd ever done that before had been Cole. Hell, even his own parents had better things to do than sit by their son's hospital bed. When he'd had his appendix out at the age of eight, it had been the current nanny who had stayed with him. His parents had visited him once and then gone back to their lives.

It did explain why he wasn't equipped to understand their caring, but it didn't really excuse his behaviour. He'd put everyone through hell, just because he'd ignored Hayman's instructions. So, starting from today, he was going to do his best to actually follow instructions and not cause his friends more trouble. It was only fair really.

That was why he found himself giving Aurelie a tour of the lab still in his wheelchair, because, despite what Sam had said, he knew Cole wasn't going to let him have his crutches back until at least the following day. The two of them helped her to find everything she needed, and then the plan had been that Cole would take Baird to physio. But Aurelie wanted to know where the gym was, so she'd tagged along and the two of them had ended up teaching Cole Gorasni swear words as they walked. Baird picked up a couple of new ones too that sounded good and were pretty cutting, so he was happy.

Cole took advantage of Baird's physio session to show Aurelie the gym. When Baird glanced over the two of them were messing about in the boxing ring, sparring like two old hands and throwing Gorasni insults at each other whilst grinning. Cole had a natural way with people, everyone just liked him and it seemed that Aurelie was no exception to that. There hadn't been much time to chat on the imulsion rig, so Baird knew very little about their visitor other than the fact that she was a chemist and seemed to know her way around a lab. He guessed he'd find out more if she stuck around for a while. He had a fair bit of respect for the Gorasni rig crew. They'd fought the Lambent to the bitter end before abandoning their rig as a lost cause.

As predicted, physio wore him out and as per recent instructions, he remembered that he was supposed to be taking care of himself and let Cole push him back to his quarters. They could see the helicopter salvage operation getting underway properly as they headed back. Baird still couldn't understand why Anya didn't want him to look at the wreck, and he was almost certain that she'd lied to him about something, he just wasn't sure what. Aurelie was still tagging along because Cole had said that he'd show her around the rest of the island once Baird had been taken home.

Cole and Aurelie left him at his door and he wheeled himself into his quarters, shutting the door behind himself. He was incredibly, and surprisingly, glad of the sudden silence that had descended on him now that he was on his own. He really needed a little space after today. He looked at the crutches that were propped up just inside the door and decided that he could probably muster enough energy to hobble to his bed. He put the brake on his chair and grabbed the crutches.

It turned out that he was more tired than he thought and whilst he probably could have just pushed himself to go the extra couple of steps, he didn't feel like risking ending up on the floor and having to call someone for help. He did make it to the couch instead and then collapsed, which was when he suddenly realised that it was just a little strange for Cole not to come in and check that he was okay. He frowned, but was far too tired to contemplate that small anomaly in his world for long.

He extracted his pills from his pocket and downed them dry, which Hayman wouldn't approve of but he was too tired to get a glass of water. He was back to taking antibiotics again and probably would be for several weeks according to Hayman. Given that he was still on painkillers and seizure medication, it wasn't that much different from before.

He closed his eyes and slept the sleep of someone who'd just got out of the Med Centre after a serious bone infection. He was so tired that he didn't wake up until it was early evening, and then he found that Sam was sat in one of the armchairs reading yet another tattered romance novel.

"You must really like those," said Baird, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and pushing himself into a more upright position.

"They're a bunch of crap," said Sam, closing the book. The title was "My Heart is a Broken Urn" by Bryony Peach. "But the bookcase in my room is full of them, so waste not, want not."

Baird's brow furrowed but this wasn't the strangest thing he'd heard of someone doing. Reading matter was pretty scarce at the moment so even romance novels were probably better than nothing. Not that recreational reading was something that he could really contemplate anymore, even with his new goggles, reading was still hard work and not much fun anymore.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Gone Six," replied Sam. "I thought you'd be hungry, and probably not feel much like heading to the Mess Hall, so I brought you some sandwiches."

"Thanks," said Baird, with a little surprise.

"_Are_ you hungry?" asked Sam, because recently he hadn't been.

Baird did inventory of how he was feeling. His leg ached but not unbearably and his stomach was definitely telling him he needed to eat. "Yeah, I'm starving," said Baird.

Sam got up and disappeared into the kitchen area. She reappeared with a plate of sandwiches and a glass of milk.

"Hayman said you could probably do with some extra calcium," said Sam, by way of explanation.

Baird wasn't sure what to say to that. He still had trouble working out how to react when people were nice to him, so he pushed himself into a better sitting position and accepted the plate and glass. He tucked in with enthusiasm. He acknowledged to himself that he was eating partly so that he had an excuse not to talk and this wasn't going to work for long, because he and Sam had a lot to talk about and he couldn't eat forever. He didn't think that she'd just come to deliver food, especially since she wasn't looking like she was about to leave.

"Did you take your pills?"

"Yes," said Baird. "I'm not enthusiastic for another dressing down from Marcus."

"Good boy," said Sam, with a smirk. She sat down with a plate of sandwiches of her own.

Baird made it through two rounds of sandwiches before he started to feel somewhat awkward, and suddenly had the pressing need to get their discussion over with.

"Are we supposed to be talking about what we do next?" asked Baird.

"If you like," said Sam. "But I'm in no hurry."

"This is probably going to come out wrong, but look, I'm just going to apologise in advance for all the times that I'm going to screw stuff up and say the wrong thing, because I'm crap with people and I'm fairly sure that doesn't stop just because we've decided to try to be a couple." It came out in a rush and it was already something that he wanted to take back and apologise for, because he suddenly had an irrational desire to not act like a dick with Sam. Or maybe it wasn't entirely irrational.

"How many girlfriends have you had, Damon?" asked Sam, with bemusement.

"Define girlfriend," said Baird.

"A relationship of more than one week," said Sam.

"Er, one," said Baird.

"One?" asked Sam, with incredulity.

"What? I didn't really have much time for girls, between being shuffled from basic training to deployment and then through about two hundred missions to kill grubs," said Baird, defensively. There had been other girls, but they hadn't been anything more than one night stands and neither they nor Baird had been under any illusions about that. "How many boyfriends have you had?"

"Three," said Sam.

"That's only two more than my one," said Baird.

"Yeah, but I was with one of them for five years," said Sam. "What about your one? How long were you together?"

"Er, about six months, but that was a long time ago, before E-day, and you know what? I don't want to talk about it right now," said Baird. "I'd rather talk about us."

"Okay, so you're basically new at long term relationships. That's what I was trying to find out," said Sam, "which sort of explains why your first reaction was to ask me why I'd want you."

"Sam, I still don't know why you'd want me, and that's got nothing to do with how many girlfriends I've had," said Baird.

"Because you're smart, and funny, and we have a good time together. In case you're in any doubt, because this is you, that means that I like you. What more do you need?"

"I don't know," said Baird. "I wish I did. Maybe it's because I keep thinking you're going to realise what a ridiculous idea this is and then you'll be gone."

"I'm not going to promise that we'll be together forever. I don't know how this is going to go, and two weeks in, we might both decide that you're right and this was a bad idea. But I can promise you that I'm serious about giving this a chance," said Sam.

Baird nodded. "Okay, I suppose that's all I can ask for. And you know that it's mutual, right?"

"That you're serious too?"

"That I think you're smart, and funny, and we have a good time together. Oh and you're unbelievably hot," said Baird, with a smirk, however it was only fleeting. "But yes, I'm serious about giving it a chance."

Sam slid out of her chair and perched herself on the edge of the couch beside Baird. He shuffled up to give her a little more room, so that she now sat with her hip next to his thigh, slightly awkwardly, turned towards him, and he put down the remaining sandwiches on the coffee table.

"Have we talked enough?" asked Sam. "I think we're both okay with this now, and it's the first time we've been alone since you got out of the Med Centre."

Baird took the hint. He put a hand on Sam's t-shirt and pulled her lips down to meet his. The first kiss was tentative, but they both wanted this and it didn't take much to push it over into something much more passionate. It left both of them breathing hard when they parted, but smiling. Baird let his hands roam across Sam's body and she seemed quite happy to let him, at least partly because she was doing some exploring of her own.

The rest of the evening disappeared in an intense make-out session, that only ended because Baird couldn't physically keep his eyes open any longer. They were both slightly disappointed by that, but there was also an agreement that they'd said they weren't going to rush things. Baird was fine with first base and maybe half-way to second. They were going to have plenty of time to get to wherever they were going and he really didn't want to screw this up.

He wished that accommodating his recovery wasn't going to have to be a factor in their physical relationship, but he couldn't do much about how tired he got or his lack of mobility at the moment. Sam had already told him several times that she knew this, expected it and was fine with it, but Baird still felt bad about it.

Sam helped him limp to his bed.

"Stay?" he asked. "It's a big bed and I promise to stick to my side."

Sam smiled. "People will talk."

"Screw them," said Baird. "Besides, you've stayed overnight before."

"Yeah, when it was Doctor's orders," said Sam, "but you're right, we shouldn't care what people think."

Sam stripped to her underwear and Baird took a ridiculous amount of pleasure in unashamedly watching her as he got himself ready for bed too. When Sam gave him a mildly annoyed, but also slightly amused look, he just grinned.

"What? You're my girlfriend, right? I'm allowed to appreciate you," said Baird.

Sam's expression changed, as if she'd just understood something. Baird realised that maybe he'd just said something he shouldn't have.

"What did I say? I can call you my girlfriend, can't I?"

She nodded. "Yeah, it's just I hadn't actually…" she shook her head, and climbed into bed beside Baird. She leaned over and gave him a kiss. She was smiling again, so he guessed that things were okay. He hadn't really considered that maybe Sam had at least some of the same insecurities that he did.

"Am I allowed to say that you're beautiful?" he asked, looking at Sam. He hardly dared to believe that she was really here.

The smile broadened. "Yes, and you don't need to ask my permission. And you don't need to try to be someone you're not." She snuggled in beside him and wrapped her arms around him.

"Okay," he said, sleepily. He wished he could have stayed awake to enjoy this for a bit longer but it just wasn't going to happen. The day was catching up with him and he closed his eyes, falling asleep with a smile on his face. It had been a while since he'd felt like this and it was good to be happy.


	18. Chapter 18

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Many thanks to my reviewers, readers and followers. Your reviews make my day every time.

* * *

Bernie's reaction to Hoffman's news that she was no longer in charge of the investigation into the sabotaged Raven was not good.

"How could you let Gavriel dictate who investigates this?" she'd asked.

"I didn't have a choice. If we're going to have a democratic government this time next year, then I can't just ignore the civilian Mayor whenever I feel like it," Hoffman had replied. "It used to be that the military did what the civilians asked of it, not the other way around."

The argument had continued up until Bernie had to leave to get the boat to Azura. With the Raven fleet grounded it was now the only way to get to Azura. She never liked leaving an argument unresolved between her and Victor, but there just hadn't been the time to work things out and she was still angry with him. Anya had briefed Bernie on the loss of Sergeant Brand's squad when she'd sent her to Anvil Gate and she was still seeing the psychiatrist. Bernie didn't consider her mentally ready to take on such an important investigation, let alone possessing the correct skills. When she'd heard about the leaked report, she'd been even more certain of her position. Alex Brand was not the calm head that was going to be needed here.

The boat ride to Azura was an awkward one and it took an entire day. Bernie didn't have much to say to Alex and her entourage. In fact the entourage was part of the problem. She had brought Dale Jefferies, Sheba Elan and Grant Keller with her, who were all bad seeds of one kind or another as far as Bernie was concerned. Jefferies was at least a Gear but not one that Bernie had much respect for. He was built like a Centaur tank and tall, with dark, short hair and dark skin. Like most Gears he had his fair share of tattoos and scars. If there was a fight in a bar, then you could bet that Jeffries would be at the centre of it. If they'd had enough Gears left to give him a dishonourable discharge, then they would have done so months ago.

Sheba Elan had been one of the Stranded, but had taken the amnesty offered at Vectes. She was a small woman, but her shirt sleeves were occasionally folded back to reveal well-proportioned muscles beneath. She wore her light brown hair in braids and freckles patterned her fair skin. She spent most of the boat ride sharpening her knives and demonstrating that she knew how to use them by throwing them at things. You didn't kill Grubs with knives. If you were good with knives then it suggested that you'd either spent a lot of time cooking, killing animals, or murdering humans. Bernie knew which she'd bet on with Sheba and she definitely couldn't cook.

Finally, there was Grant Keller, who was strangely well dressed for someone who lived in Anvegad and, according to Hoffman, had a very dubious past in COGIntel. His hair was dark, steel grey, and matched his eyes, but he wasn't as old as that made him seem. He was actually quite good looking and walked with the confidence of someone who knew how to handle themselves. He wasn't a Gear, and she didn't trust him, because Hoffman didn't trust him. He'd turned up at Anvegad a few months after the COG had returned there and hadn't been terribly forthcoming on where he'd been in the intervening period since leaving Jacinto. Hoffman's money had been on him running errands for Prescott, and Bernie could easily believe that.

At least Bernie had the time to warn Anya of the change in plans. It had caused her to nearly choke on her coffee when she heard that Bernie was bringing Alex Brand back to Azura. The whole point of getting her off Azura had been to stop her from causing trouble by removing her from the situation. Anya had not expected it to come back and bite her. She'd genuinely thought that it would be best for all involved, and Bernie sympathised with her reaction.

Hoffman had already informed Anya of his suspicions regarding Alex leaking the report to Gavriel. Neither Anya nor Hoffman could exactly work out how that had happened, since there were only two copies of Corporal Brennan's report and one was with Hoffman in his office and the other was in Anya's safe. Then Anya put two and two together, had a chat with Brennan about who had collected the report and it all made sense. Alex Brand had been on post collection duty the day after the lab incident in which the rest of her squad had died. She'd been offered time off and refused it. Apparently Brennan had handed over the report to Brand when she came to pick up the mail. It would have been fairly easy for Brand to make a copy.

Bernie liked Alex Brand even less now, however that wasn't the worst of her problems. When she'd received the message from Hoffman about the sabotaged helicopter, she had immediately begun investigating. Several weeks later she had gone through everything. Every possible permutation, every possible way that people might be lying about who they were and who they had been and, what, where and how they had been. If someone was pretending to be someone that they weren't then she couldn't find them. Azura's records were her last hope to find out what was going on.

Anya met the boat and did her best to be happy to see at least Bernie. They could watch the remains of the crashed helicopter being moved to one of the storage facilities as they arrived at the port. It was the only place big enough to lay out the entire thing. Somehow Anya managed to separate Bernie from the rest of the party for a moment, sending Brand and her friends on with Clay Carmine, to talk to Corporal Brennan.

"Just how bad is this going to be?" asked Anya. "Hoffman said that Brand is leading the investigation and they've got Gavriel's backing."

"That's about the size of it," said Bernie. "And if we piss off the Mayor then we're in big trouble. Vic will get accused of railroading the people's representative and we'll have riots in Anvegad. Or they'll start talking about cover-ups and then it could get very nasty."

"Who are her friends?"

"Not nice people," said Bernie. She gave Anya a quick rundown.

Anya was wisely leading Bernie towards the storage facility, because they didn't want Alex to get too much of a head start on them.

"So, we're looking at a witch hunt," said Anya.

"I'd say so," said Bernie. "But I'll do my best to rein them in and make sure it's a proper investigation. This isn't how I wanted this to be done."

"I don't trust Alex Brand," said Anya. "She was a good soldier, but since we lost Zeta, she's gone off the rails and I don't know how to get her back again."

"Well, for one, I'll keep a close eye on her, but I'd suggest you tell Delta to keep well away from her if at all possible. How's blondie, by the way? Vic said he was on crutches when he last saw him."

"Yeah, he probably shouldn't have been when the Colonel saw him, but he's as stubborn as ever. He picked up an infection in his leg last week and he's only just got out of the Med Centre again," said Anya. "I think he's back in the workshop today, depending on how much of a mother hen Cole and Sam were being. They wanted him to take a few more days off, but they're keeping a close eye on him. He'd appreciate a visit if you have a moment."

Bernie nodded. "I'll do my best, but this circus is my top priority right now. Baird and Brennan's names are on the suspect list, along with Daniel Carmine, and I don't want that girl getting any weird ideas."

"I assume you'll want to see those files as soon as you've had a look at the wreckage," said Anya.

"Yes. I still reckon that's where we're going to find our culprit," said Bernie. "Vic and I both think there's someone at Anvil Gate that isn't who we think they are. Operation Leveller brought in several UIR scientists, but there were other defections. We've lost track of so many people since this war began that we have to take people at their word when they give us a name. We just don't have the records to check against anymore."

"Okay, just radio in and I'll arrange an escort," said Anya. "We'd best catch up."

The two women headed up to the storage facility. Because the journey to Azura had been a long one, the light was already fading and the salvage operation would be shutting down for the night soon. They weren't going to get much done today. Bernie was feeling her age and knew that she'd sleep well tonight, the files would probably have to wait until tomorrow.

By the time they reached the storage facility Alex had already cornered Brennan and was questioning her on the wreckage, with Grant Keller standing off to one side but apparently still listening in. Anya and Bernie joined her.

"When was maintenance last done on this Raven?" asked Alex.

"This one was done ten days ago," said Brennan.

"Here or Anvil Gate?" asked Alex.

Brennan checked a clipboard. "Here. The boss and I worked on it together. That's why it's so weird. We went down the checklist and there weren't any worn parts. We topped up the fluids and sent it on its way."

"Have you pulled the black box yet?" asked Anya.

"I'm downloading the telemetry now," said Brennan.

"When will you have it?" asked Alex.

"It should be done by tomorrow," said Brennan.

"Who's your boss?" asked Keller.

"Sergeant Baird," said Brennan.

"Why isn't he doing this?" continued Keller.

"I asked Brennan to take the lead," said Anya. "She's the person who identified that the first Raven that went down had probably been sabotaged. It made sense to get her to continue and investigate this too."

Keller nodded. "And I assume he's on our suspects list?"

"Along with most of the mechanics in Anvil Gate, yes," said Bernie.

Keller raised an eyebrow, and wandered off to examine some of the wreckage. Bernie really didn't like him. Every time she saw him she got the feeling that he was lying to her about something.

"We need to know when the sabotage was carried out on this Raven, assuming it was sabotaged," said Bernie. "If we can get a time window then we can start eliminating people. They'd have had to have been working on both Ravens in the right time frame."

Brennan nodded. "I'll pull the engine control module too."

The crash investigation team spent the night examining the wreckage, and although Bernie had hoped that she might get a chance to catch up with her friends, it didn't happen. It was 22:00 hours when Anya accompanied her to her temporary quarters and said goodnight. Bernie was worn out from her day's work, and she knew that things were only going to become more difficult from here on out.

* * *

Baird wasn't stupid, when Marcus arrived at his workshop with a dark look in his eyes, Baird had known that something was up. But he really hadn't expected Marcus to then inform him that Bernie was jointly leading an investigation into the downed choppers with Alex Brand, and that they were all on Azura with a few helpers.

"What the hell, Marcus?" asked Baird, putting down his tools. He'd been working on an ATV and was currently leaning on it to help him balance on his good leg. "I thought the whole point of sending her to Anvil Gate was to get her to stop causing trouble. What's Bernie doing bringing her back here?"

"Following orders," said Marcus. "While you were in the Med Centre Alex got herself appointed as the military liaison to the Anvegad Council. She and her team are answering directly to Lewis Gavriel."

"They're civilians, Marcus. The military are still in charge until Hoffman's elections next year," said Baird.

"If Hoffman ignores the Mayor then there will be massive unrest at Anvegad. You know where that road leads. He has no choice," said Marcus.

"So the Triumvirate don't have any real power?" asked Baird. "I hope you've mentioned this to Trescu."

"Trescu's got his own problems. The Triumvirate can make the big decisions, but it's not like the days of iron clad martial law. The war's over and people are asking why we're still taking up space. The military are seen as just another drain on resources at Anvegad," said Marcus.

"I hate politics," said Baird.

"Yeah, me too," said Marcus. "If you can, stay away from Alex Brand and her goon squad. Bernie told Anya that one of them, Keller, is a former COGIntel operative."

"COGIntel? As in he was a spy?" asked Baird, with disbelief.

Marcus gave a nod.

"Wasn't COGIntel disbanded at the end of the Pendulum Wars?" asked Baird. "Not much call for spies when your enemy is grey and seven foot tall."

"Yeah, but it doesn't make him any less dangerous. Hoffman says that he knew of him during the Pendulum Wars. He helped to set up a couple of the last covert ops in the war and got us some of our early intelligence on grub movements," said Marcus. "Hoffman thinks that he worked for Prescott while we were on Vectes."

"Awesome," said Baird. "And the other two?"

"Bernie described them as thugs," said Marcus.

"Even better. Our home-grown nutcase found a few more nutcases to play with," said Baird.

"Yes, so stay away from them," said Marcus.

"What do you want me to do? Sit in the workshop? That's the kind of behaviour which usually has you and Cole breathing down my neck," said Baird.

"We'll make an exception while our guests are here," said Marcus.

"I'm not going to hide from fucking Alex Brand," said Baird.

"I didn't tell you to hide. I just told you to stay out of their way," said Marcus.

"And the difference would be?"

"One's cowardice, the other's common sense," said Marcus.

"I've got stuff to do, Marcus. Aurelie needs me up at the pharma lab to help with setting up the computers and I've got a nuclear reactor to keep an eye on," said Baird.

Baird was currently splitting his time between the workshop, the reactor and the pharma lab. His main problem was that he was constantly tired at the moment and he was finding it hard to shake. He supposed this was what happened when you nearly died from an infection. It took a while to get back to full strength. He was trying very hard to listen to his body and not push himself past his limits, but the workshop hadn't become any less busy during his absence.

"Then do what you need to do. They're either going to be up at the storage facility or in Ops going through records," said Marcus.

"Actually I thought I'd come down here and see how our boy was doing," said a familiar voice. Bernie stepped through the door of the workshop, looking almost exactly like she had done when he'd last seen her at Anvil Gate.

Baird actually smiled as he saw her. "Finally. Marcus said you got here yesterday. I know you old folks move more slowly, but I'd have thought you'd have made it down here sooner." He looked around for his crutches which he'd left propped against the engine compartment.

"I guess Hayman couldn't do anything about that personality transplant you need," said Bernie, smiling. "That's a shame because it looks like she fixed everything else pretty well."

Baird gave a shrug. "Almost everything. Feel free to make jokes about the brain damage. Everyone else does."

"No, we don't," said Marcus, always the spoilsport.

Baird gave him an annoyed look, before turning back to Bernie who had closed the gap between them. She gave him a squeeze on his arm.

"You've lost weight," she said, a bit more seriously. "And you look like crap, but at least you're still here."

"Yeah, a bit dinged up, but still here," said Baird, looking down at the hated apparatus around his leg because he didn't want to look Bernie in the eye. "And hopefully the torture device will be off in a few days."

"Counting the hours?"

"Minutes, more like," said Marcus.

"So how much trouble has he been?" asked Bernie, turning towards Marcus.

"About as much trouble as I would have been," said Marcus.

"That bad?" asked Bernie.

"Enough, you two," said Baird, leaning on his crutches. "Did you come down here to tag team me or to tell me something? Marcus just got through warning me to stay away from Alex Brand."

"He's right, blondie," said Bernie.

"I know, okay. I know. So, is either of you two going to tell me what the fuck is really going on here? Because something is and you're both shit at keeping secrets," said Baird.

"I can't say anything," said Bernie. "If I do, then I could cause more trouble for all of us. You're not stupid though, and you know that two Ravens going down like this isn't normal. You can work the rest out for yourself."

Baird nodded and Marcus stopped him from losing his balance with a well-placed hand on his arm.

He was putting all the pieces together now, and realising why Marcus was so insistent that he stayed away from the investigation. Sabotaging a helicopter so that it flew but didn't reach its destination wasn't easy. It needed someone who knew about helicopters and that meant that it was a pretty small pool of suspects that they were looking at. It meant that he was one of those suspects.

"Shit," said Baird.

"Yeah, I knew you'd get it," said Bernie. "I've got to do this by the book or else I'm making Vic look bad for appointing me to investigate this."

"More politics," said Baird.

"Yeah, but better that than swinging at each other, blondie. I've got to get back to the records."

As Bernie said that, Baird began to see a familiar explosion of brightly coloured lights behind his eyes. He put hand to his head.

"Marcus…" was all he needed to say. Marcus' eyes widened just a little and he knew he'd picked up on what was about to happen. He never knew how much time he had between the aura and the seizure, it varied a lot.

"Got you," said his friend. "Let's get you down on the floor."

"What's the matter?" asked Bernie.

"He's about to have a seizure," said Marcus, as he helped Baird to lie down. The lights were disorientating and just too much. He could have made it to the ground on his own, but this was easier.

"It's an aura," said Baird. "Bright lights followed by a failure to understand the Tyran language."

"Bernie, can you get the caterpillar from Baird's towel?" asked Marcus, and that made him smirk a little. Sometimes his screwed up brain came up with some weird substitutions.

"On it," said Bernie. "Mat tile roller drone toothbrush."

"Crap," said Baird, and disappeared into the darkness of his brain's misfiring synapses.

When he came round there was a pillow under his head and he already knew it hadn't been that bad a seizure, because he actually knew where he was. It also only took Marcus two goes before he could work out what he was saying. His limbs were still not responding to commands but it wasn't long before he could twitch his fingers.

"You back?" asked Marcus.

"Yeah," said Baird, tiredly. He was all aches and overworked muscles. He needed to take his painkillers.

"Feel up to sitting?"

"I guess so," he said.

Marcus got him up, with a little help from Bernie.

"Bloody hell, blondie," said Bernie. "Are you sure we shouldn't call the Doc?"

Baird suspected that Bernie had already had this conversation with Marcus.

"Nah, I'm fine," said Baird, "tired and achy but fine."

"Let's get you back to your quarters," said Marcus.

"No, just help me to hop to the office. I can rest there and I won't have to make the trip up and back from my quarters," said Baird.

Marcus and Bernie exchanged a look.

"Okay, but you actually rest," said Marcus.

"Yeah, I think I'll be able to manage that."

"Any idea what triggered it?" asked Marcus. "Are you taking your pills? And sleeping okay?"

Baird rolled his eyes. "I'm taking my pills and I'm sleeping fine."

He'd actually been sleeping much better the last few days. Sam had been sharing his bed for the past three nights and it seemed to have chased away his nightmares. He expected that they'd be back again soon enough but it was good for now. He was pretty sure that everyone on the island now thought that he and Sam were having sex, but he didn't really care what everyone thought and the reality was they were still both sleeping in their underwear, snuggled up next to each other. Baird was just too tired for much other than kisses at the moment. The really weird thing was that he didn't mind, because he knew that they'd get there when they were both ready and he wanted his first time with Sam to be special. Which he knew was a horrible cliché, but it was how he really felt.

"It's probably a combination of the fact that I'm still recovering from an infection and because my medication was all over the place while I was sick," said Baird.

"What about stress?" asked Bernie.

"Yes, stress can be trigger," said Baird, with resignation. "But hey, there's none of that in my life so it's definitely not that."

He limped over to his office with help from Marcus and Bernie. He could put a little weight on his bad leg now, but not for sustained periods. He ignored the look that his two friends were giving each other, as he lay down. He knew he looked weak, but his condition made him weak and there was nothing that he could do about it. He fumbled for his painkillers and Marcus was handing him a bottle of water before he'd even got the top off. He downed the pills with a long drink and realised that he was worn out. All he ever wanted to do after a seizure was sleep.

"Go on, get out of here," said Baird. "I'm going to sleep and then I'll hop up to the Embry Labs to see Aurelie when I wake up."

"Get someone to drive you," said Marcus.

Baird sighed. "Okay, I'll radio into Ops and see if anyone's free to drive me."

"I'll be checking," said Marcus.

"Sleep well, Baird," said Bernie. "We'll have a proper catch up over a drink one evening before I go."

"I can't drink, but I guess we can still have the catch up," said Baird.

Marcus and Bernie left him to his napping, shutting the door of his office. None of his team would disturb him with the door shut and he'd happily sleep for a few hours. If he was lucky then Sam would be the one who was free to drive him across the island to the Embry Labs. He allowed himself a small feeling of enthusiasm at that.

When he woke up, he realised that he'd sleep well into the afternoon and longer than he'd intended. He really wished his entire day hadn't been screwed up by one seizure, but that was life now. He'd been lucky that he hadn't been completely wiped out by it, but he'd still need an early night tonight and he'd probably be sore for a couple of days.

He hit his radio and, blissfully, Sam was available to run him across the island. Her squad had been rotated off guard duty and was now on transport detail, which meant that Sam got to drive an ATV around the island. They were still at the point in their relationship where it felt like being apart was hard work, so any time spent together was good, but Baird wasn't terribly comfortable with being a couple in public. He just wasn't the type to hold hands and give her loving pecks on the cheek when they met. It just felt like he was giving up too much of himself and Sam seemed to understand that. When they were on their own in his quarters, it was a different matter and he'd happily show her how much she meant to him there.

"Taxi for Baird," shouted Sam, as she pulled up in the courtyard of the workshop. Baird was already stood waiting there for her.

He pulled open the door and threw his crutches inside, before grabbing the handles and swinging himself up into the cab. He briefly put weight on his bad leg, but it only protested slightly. She smiled at him as he planted his rear in the seat beside hers, and then she frowned.

"You look tired. Are you sure you don't want me to take you back to the accommodation block?" She put a hand on his for a moment and there was a touch of concern in her eyes.

"I had a seizure, but don't worry, it wasn't a bad one," said Baird, trying to head off the inevitable over-the-top concern. "I just need to go see Aurelie and then I'll pack it in for the day."

Sam gave him a long and examining look. She was definitely deciding whether she should believe him or not. This was one of the problems with actually having a proper girlfriend. She tended to pay close attention to how he was doing and she was getting really good at reading his body language. This made any attempts at bluffing out how sore or tired he was a lot harder. He only had himself to blame really after scaring everyone so badly with his recent fever and infection.

On this occasion she decided to go with his self-assessment. "Okay, I'll hang around while you do what you need to get done and drive you back home afterwards."

He rolled his eyes at that. "Don't you have more important stuff to do than sit around waiting for me?"

"Probably, but I'd like my boyfriend to not end up in the Medical Centre again," replied Sam, with annoyance as she took the handbrake off and started the drive over to the Embry Labs. "Plus Marcus was pretty clear that you weren't allowed to get away with pushing yourself to exhaustion."

"I'm not, okay? I said I'd go home after this," replied Baird. "But Aurelie wants computer access and my enlightened self-interest is telling me that it might be a good idea to help her out so that I'll still be around to bitch at this time next year."

Just because Baird and Sam had decided to be together didn't mean that they argued any less, Baird reflected. Baird was strangely happy about that. He didn't want Sam to change or give him any less of a hard time; that wouldn't have been any fun. It had rather taken the sting out of their disagreements though, and they were both quicker to forgive and more likely to take jibes in the manner in which they were intended.

"Fine," said Sam, "but I'm still staying to take you home afterwards."

That was pretty much the end of that argument because Sam could be just as stubborn as Baird when she wanted to be. Their conversation moved on to a discussion of the ATV's steering mechanism because they both reckoned that the tracking was out, so Baird promised to look at it the next time he had the ATV in the shop. They arrived at the Labs and Sam helped Baird climb down from the cab, taking his crutches for him.

They walked into the Labs to find Aurelie chatting to Cole, who had apparently stopped by to help with some heavy lifting.

"How's it going?" asked Sam.

"It is getting there," said Aurelie. "Equipment nearly all in place and now I just need computers. Then we'll be ready to start testing and hopefully manufacturing. Will need raw ingredients though and not sure how we will produce those."

"If we can work out what we need, then I can start putting a list together," said Baird. "We might be able to make some of it ourselves. I guess we could try finding a chemical factory to scavenge the rest from."

"Is a shame we're no longer friends with the Ostrians," said Aurelie.

"They're bad news, baby," said Cole, lifting a large machine onto a lab bench. "But I guess the Gorasni used to be their allies."

Aurelie nodded. "They had largest pharmaceutical plant in world in Ostri, near Kirnheim. I was invited to go there and give talk once. It was like a…" she searched for the word and said it in Gorasni.

"Er, dream," suggested Baird. "You mean it was pretty amazing?"

Aurelie nodded with a smile. "But it is probably gone now. Those cockroaches maybe overran the place, yes?"

"The grubs?" asked Cole. "Yeah, I'd say that's pretty likely, but they probably weren't interested in the tech or the chemicals. That might all still be there."

"Don't go getting any ideas, Cole," said Baird. "You know the kind of numbers that we're talking about over there, and what they did to Daniel Carmine. We're better off steering well clear of that place. Even Anya doesn't want us to get too close after looking at the satellite images."

"Yeah, that would be why she's got Marcus looking at strike force plans," said Cole.

"What?" asked Baird. "Since when?"

Cole shrugged. "He came to talk to me yesterday."

He hated being left out of the loop, and then he realised why he'd been left out. He wasn't going to be part of any expedition to Ostri, or any strike force. He wasn't going to get to carry his lancer ever again. For all of Marcus's speeches about how he was part of the squad and the squad was family, they still weren't going to include him in future combat missions. For a moment it physically hurt.

He wondered when he'd begun to care about stuff like this. People kept telling him that he was heartless, but the problem was that when he really wanted to be, he just wasn't. He sat down at the nearest computer, and pulled his goggles down over his eyes so that he could actually read the screen. He needed a distraction or he risked a second seizure.

He felt Sam wander over behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. She was getting far too good at reading him. He hung his head for just a second, and let Sam's warm hands remind him that life wasn't over. It was just different. And Marcus Fenix was an idiot if he thought he could plan an assault on the Ostrians without Baird's help. He'd leave it a couple of days and if Marcus still hadn't worked that one out then he'd go to him himself.

* * *

"How often does he get seizures?" asked Bernie, as she and Marcus made their way back toward the Records Room in the Ops building.

Marcus could tell that she hadn't been at all prepared for the sight of Baird seizing on the floor. Even though Bernie had been informed of Baird's condition, Marcus could imagine that seeing it first hand was pretty shocking. Bernie had seen some shit in her time as well, but it was all suddenly different when it was a friend.

"Usually his medication keeps it under control," said Marcus. "But like he said, there are triggers that can give him a breakthrough seizure. If he doesn't get enough rest or gets too stressed then a breakthrough seizure becomes more likely. Before he was sick, he'd managed two weeks without one, but Hayman had to screw with his meds whilst he was fighting off the infection. It might just be them settling down again. You'll have to ask Hayman if you want the details."

"But medication is a problem?" asked Bernie.

"Yeah," said Marcus. "It won't last forever."

"That's an utterly crappy situation to be in," said Bernie.

"Yeah, it sucks," said Marcus.

"So what are you doing about it?" asked Bernie.

He could hear the implied questions of why weren't they doing it more and faster, hidden under the far simpler one. Bernie definitely didn't like the idea of Baird being ill and there being nothing that could be done to help him. She was an honorary member of Delta herself and could get very protective of the members of her adopted squad when threatened.

"We're trying to come up with a way to produce more medicine. Not just for Baird, but for everyone that needs it. We've got a Gorasni chemist working up in the Embry Labs. Hopefully she'll be able to manufacture the drugs we need, if we can get her the right equipment and we can work out how to make this stuff."

Marcus saw Bernie giving him an approving nod as they entered the Ops building.

"So how long is that going to take?"

"No idea," said Marcus, truthfully. "Our chemist only just arrived and she's still assessing the situation."

Again Bernie simply nodded in reply.

"We could do with some help going through these records," said Bernie, "if you've got the time. You met some of the scientists we recovered from Operation Leveller."

"Am I allowed?" asked Marcus.

"You're the one that Brennan reported the original sabotage to," said Bernie. "You've probably got more credibility than a lot of others and Brand still seems to think you're okay. She asked for you because of your background with the Ostrians. You might understand some of the technical stuff in them too."

"If you think it will help get to the bottom of this," said Marcus.

They walked into the Records Room to find Keller, Alex and Anya hard at work wading through the records. Marcus had never set foot in this room before. He was a little awestruck by its size and the number of filing cabinets contained within its wood panelled interior. There were filing cabinets down three walls of the room and rows in the centre. There was also room for several desks with reading lamps and computers. It was here that the investigators were currently sat poring over the records.

"You made it," said Brand. She was chewing on an unlit cigar that she removed as Marcus approached. "Grab a seat and get stuck in. It's going to take a few days to get through all these."

"I thought they kept the records on computer disks?" he asked.

"It turns out that Prescott was more paranoid than we thought," said Anya. "He didn't keep digital records on any of the scientists that he brought here or that he was thinking of bringing here."

"We're starting with the scientists that Hoffman grabbed during Operation Leveller," said Bernie. "Pick a file and start reading."

Marcus looked at the pile and then looked at the files being read. He took the one labelled "Mauris Ivo" and sat down. It had "DECEASED" stamped on the front of it in large letter, but the only person who could actually verify that had died at Mercy protecting Marcus and the rest of the squad. Dom hadn't ever talked much about how he'd earned his Embry Star and it was a day that they'd both rather forget. Maybe Ivo wasn't as dead as he'd seemed to be. His name coming up in a radio communication certainly seemed to indicate otherwise. He flicked the file open and started at the beginning with Ivo's early education. The file was extremely detailed. This was going to take a while.


	19. Chapter 19

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: I'm sure you all know what's coming in this chapter, but here it is. Hey there to my reviewers, your reviews are very much appreciated.

* * *

Baird prided himself in his observation skills. He tended to notice things that other people missed. However, he had a blind spot, and that was when it came to noticing stuff that involved a social element. It was why it had taken him months to work out that Sam wasn't failing to do maintenance on her bike because she didn't know how, but because she wanted an excuse to go up to the workshop and watch him do it.

And it had taken him several days of lying beside Sam in bed to work out that he hadn't started being attracted to her after his accident. No, it had all happened much earlier. He'd already liked her when they started the assault on Azura and been worried about her. It only took a little bit more analysis to come up with several instances where Sam had probably been trying to show him that she might like him as more than just a friend too. Baird then spent some time kicking himself for not seeing it sooner. It had never, ever been about her pitying him. The only thing that his accident had changed really was the amount of free time he suddenly had to notice stuff and spend with his friends. Before he'd fallen off the accommodation block roof, he'd been working so hard and so much that he'd barely left the workshop. He'd been so wrapped up in repairs and keeping things running that he'd never have had time to get to know Sam like he did now, and he was glad he had. Even serious injury had to have a silver lining.

However, he was still completely clueless about other people's love lives. It was three days before he noticed that Cole wasn't spending as much time hanging out with him as he usually did. He didn't even get it when Cole was there in the Embry Labs almost every time Baird was working there too. Sometimes Cole just stopped by to bring everyone lunch, other times he was already there helping Aurelie to move some heavy equipment, or occasionally he just dropped by to say hi. Even then it wasn't Baird who put the pieces together, but Sam, who was apparently plugged into every gossip network on the island.

There was no such thing as a "walk of shame" when almost everyone lived in the same building, but it seemed that Cole had been seen leaving Aurelie's room early in the morning on a couple of occasions.

"Fuck me, he's seeing flamethrower lady," said Baird, with disbelief, when Sam had informed him of this.

"I think he's more than seeing her," replied Sam, with a smirk.

Baird rolled his eyes. He wasn't jealous, but he was a little annoyed that Cole hadn't even mentioned that he was with a woman. He'd told Cole that he and Sam were an item the morning after it had happened, admittedly a very tentative item, but he'd still muttered the words while Cole grinned proudly like he'd been the one to fix it all up. Then his friend had teased him mercilessly about it.

Turnabout was fair play in Baird's book. Cole had kept him in the dark for six days and that definitely deserved revenge of some kind. He met Cole for dinner and was pleased to find that it was burger night.

He didn't launch into it right away. He bided his time and waited until Cole was halfway through his burger before he got to work.

"So, I've been thinking about Aurelie," said Baird.

"What about her?" asked Cole.

"I don't think we need her," said Baird. "I mean she hasn't got that far. I can do everything that she's trying to do, and she's not even that good."

"Didn't you say that you're not a chemist?" asked Cole.

"Yeah, but I know how to work a gas chromatograph and she can brief me before she leaves," said Baird. It was pretty hard for him to keep a straight face at this point. "Besides, I bet Aurelie would rather be back home with her Gorasni friends."

"Now hang on a minute there, I'm not sure that's such a good idea. You don't need any more to do," said Cole, his face falling.

"Brennan will be finished with the helicopter crash investigation in the next couple of days. I should have more time then to take on a new project and I'm feeling better every day," said Baird, which was actually mostly the truth. "Yeah, I'll talk to Anya after breakfast tomorrow. Aurelie can pack up her stuff and be out on the next boat going that way."

Cole looked absolutely stricken at this prospect. Baird watched Cole open his mouth to defend Aurelie and then shut it again.

"Damn it, Baird. You know, don't you?"

Baird couldn't help but laugh. "You should see your expression."

"You son of a bitch, I really thought you meant it for a moment there," said Cole, with a rueful shake of his head.

"Why didn't you tell me?" asked Baird. "This has been amusing, but I'm kind of hurt that you didn't want to let me in on your secret."

"I didn't want to steal your thunder, baby," said Cole. "You were the one with the new girlfriend, and you and Sam are just too damn cute."

"Geez, Cole! Do you have to say stuff like that? It just sounds so wrong coming out of your mouth and that's even before you begin applying it to me," said Baird. "Get back to you and flamethrower lady."

"We got together the same night that you and Sam had your chat. We just didn't hang around, and took things to the next level, if you know what I mean," said Cole, with a knowing look and smile. "Clearly she thought that the Cole Train passed the try-outs, because she invited me back for another game."

"So, I heard you made the play-offs. Just how serious is this?"

"We're just having fun," said Cole. "We'll see if there's any more to it than that. It's only been a week, you know."

Baird munched on his burger, and gave a half shrug. "Don't screw it up."

"Isn't that supposed to be something that I tell you?" Cole looked mildly amused by this.

"Aurelie's smart, good looking, lets me practice my Gorasni on her without laughing, and I can actually stand being around her for more than five minutes. You could do worse," said Baird. "You've done worse."

"Hey, as long as she's got the Baird seal of approval," replied Cole, with a grin. "And I'll be sure to run any girls I go out with by you first next time."

"Very funny," said Baird.

Marcus joined them at this point, so the conversation paused for a moment.

"Cole's got a girlfriend," said Baird.

"Congratulations," said Marcus, as he took his seat.

"That's it? You're not going to ask who and how long?"

"It's none of my business," said Marcus.

"See, Baird, not everyone's interested in who's sleeping with who," said Cole.

"Neither am I. I just wanted to know why it was such a big secret. So, yeah, great conversation, guys. We'll just sit in silence for the rest of the meal then? Awesome." Baird bit into the last of his burger with more force than was really necessary.

Marcus was just giving him one of his looks. It was the kind that suggested he was regretting coming over to sit with them.

"Where's Sam?" asked their squad leader, innocently.

"She went to the gym," said Baird, without thinking. A few seconds later he realised that he'd never officially told Marcus that he and Sam were together.

Marcus was giving him an entirely different, and rather amused look, now.

"Er, Sam and I…"

"I know," said Marcus. "Sam told Anya."

"It's not a secret," said Baird. "It's just not exactly public knowledge either."

"Baby, in this place, everything's public knowledge," said Cole.

Baird groaned. He really preferred it when they weren't all packed in like sardines and when there was some expectation of privacy. Unfortunately he didn't think that was going to happen. They actually had more space now than they'd had on CNV Sovereign.

"Which reminds me," said Baird, "when were you going to let me in on your strike force planning, Fenix?"

Marcus stopped chewing for a second and Baird knew that he hadn't intended for him to find out, at least not yet. He'd probably have preferred it if Baird didn't discover Delta were going on a mission until they were on the boat and halfway there. Marcus gave Cole an annoyed look. Baird only called him "Fenix" when he was genuinely mad at him.

"You didn't tell me not to tell him," said Cole. "If you wanted it kept secret then you should have said so, Marcus."

Marcus sighed and directed his attention back to Baird. "You're not on combat duty."

"No shit, Marcus," said Baird. "It's just that the extent of your military tactics is "let's split up and flank them" or "cover me while I do something stupid", which I know worked against the grubs a lot of the time, but if you want to find a way into that fort, then you need me. You know I'm good at this stuff."

Marcus gave him a long look. "Okay, I'll go through what I've got with you. It might be a couple days though before I have time."

Sorotki and Mitchell wandered into the Mess Hall. They looked pretty banged up, with bandages poking out from under their clothing, but they were up and about at least. The Raven pilots were all total nutcases, but Baird had been grateful for that on several occasions now. He couldn't think of anything much more terrifying than making an emergency landing on water, but Sorotki had pulled it off and lived to tell the tale. It was a shame that his helo hadn't come off as well. Baird still wasn't sure if it would be salvageable, but then he hadn't really been able to have a good look at it yet.

"Any progress on what took down that Raven?" asked Cole.

Marcus shook his head. "They're still wading through black box data. It'll be another day at least."

"I could do with Brennan back. I'm out all day tomorrow getting the torture device removed," said Baird. "Hayman made me take the day off."

"Yeah, that would be because it's kind of a big thing and you need recovery time," said Cole.

"Sam wants to come with me," said Baird.

"Then maybe you should let her," said Marcus. "If it was me, then Anya wouldn't let me go alone."

Baird definitely didn't want Sam to see him either in pain, or loopy from morphen. Apart from anything, he was strangely uneasy about the procedure. He supposed that his leg had caused him a lot of pain and grief, maybe it was normal to be a little worried. He shook his head.

"She's spent enough time sitting by my hospital bed," said Baird.

"That's because she cares," said Cole. "It was her choice. You've got to stop worrying about stuff like this."

"Honestly, I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing," said Baird.

"You're not _supposed_ to be doing anything. Relationships work on give and take," said Marcus. "You'd be there for Sam."

And that stopped Baird in his tracks, because he really had no idea if he'd be there for Sam if their positions were reversed. He knew that he was supposed to be, and he did care about her, but he couldn't imagine sitting at her bedside, holding her hand, like she'd done for him. Just thinking about it made him uneasy, and that made him feel like pretty much the worst guy in the world. He suddenly had a strong need to be elsewhere.

He grabbed his crutches. "Can one of you take my tray back? I've just remembered I've got a meeting with Quayle to get to."

He didn't care that Marcus and Cole could see through his excuse. He just needed to get away from this conversation.

* * *

Bernie was the one that read Anna Meurig's file, and she wished that she hadn't. Anna Meurig was one of the UIR scientists that had been working on the Hammer of Dawn technology at Aspho Point. Except on the day that the COG had raided the weapons facility, Anna Meurig hadn't been there. Her daughter, Katia, had been though, so Hoffman had taken her instead with the expectation that Anna Meurig would want to exchange herself for her daughter. She defected as anticipated, but asked if her daughter could stay with her. So Katia Meurig grew up in Tyrus and was given all the benefits of a Tyran education. She'd gone to La Croix College and decided to study Engineering.

Whilst she'd been studying at La Croix, she'd met a young aristocrat named Damon Baird. The file mentioned that he'd been trying to pay his way through college by working as a Lab Assistant to Professor Elliott. Bernie was puzzled by that, since she knew that Baird's family were rich, but it went on to detail how he'd been disowned by his family because he'd refused to join the army and go to Officer Training College. Bernie hadn't known any of this, and it was a little painful to read.

Katia Meurig had been going under the name Katia Masters at the time. The two of them had been top of their class and had apparently been close. The file mentioned that they often spent the night in each other's rooms and it painted a pretty vivid picture of their relationship. Baird only managed a single year of college at La Croix, and then during the winter term of his second year Emergence Day happened and he'd joined up. The file didn't say what happened to the relationship after that, and the surveillance team lost track of Katia.

What was very clear was that Katia was Ostrian and Baird had probably been in love with her. It was more than enough to suggest that there could be something to the idea that Baird was the spy. If this had been anyone else then she'd have already been planning their arrest.

"What's the matter?" asked Marcus, as he took his seat at the desk opposite hers. Grant Keller was sitting behind them.

"I found something," said Bernie. "You're not going to like it." She passed the file over, open at the relevant page.

Marcus gave Bernie an assessing look and then read the page. She could see the surprise in his eyes as he took in the information.

"This doesn't mean anything," said Marcus.

"What doesn't mean anything?" asked Keller.

Marcus gave Bernie a very reluctant look and handed the file to Keller.

"Sergeant Baird was involved with an Ostrian," said Keller. Alex Brand's ears pricked up and she was standing by their desk a moment later, reading the same file that they'd all just read.

"Baird isn't the saboteur," said Marcus. "It wouldn't make any sense."

"He's a mechanic and he knows his way around a helicopter," said Alex.

"So do a lot of mechanics," said Bernie. "Just because he dated an Ostrian girl nineteen years ago doesn't mean that he's an Ostrian sympathiser. We need more proof if you're going to try to pin this on him."

"The black box data will give us a time frame for when the sabotage took place," said Alex. "Then we'll know where the helicopters were and who last did maintenance on them. Did you know that Prescott was thinking about asking Baird to join his staff?"

"He mentioned it," said Marcus.

"Of course he did," said Alex. "It means he has a file here. I pulled it. It's not very detailed because Prescott didn't notice him until after Vectes, but it does have his course transcript from La Croix. He took a course in engine control software programming there."

Marcus shrugged. "Baird knows a lot about computers. It's his job to fix whatever he can."

"He's always been vocal in his dislike of Prescott and the COG. Maybe he decided it was time to change sides," said Alex.

"Can you actually hear yourself? Baird's a member of Delta squad. He helped stop the Locust and killed the Lambent," said Bernie. She wasn't going to let Alex get away with saying this about one of her friends.

"He's got friends who are Gorasni," spat Alex.

"The Gorasni are part of the COG now," ground out Marcus, tersely.

"They weren't before Vectes," said Keller. "They were allies of the Ostrians."

"I'm bringing him in for questioning," said Alex, getting to her feet. Bernie was stood in front of her before she'd even taken a step.

"I'm still in joint charge of this investigation, and I say that you need motive, means and opportunity before you can do that," said Bernie. "And you've barely got two of those. The black box data won't be ready until tomorrow for us to go through. Your main suspect has a broken leg and won't be going anywhere."

Alex regarded Bernie coldly. "You've got until tomorrow to prove to me that your golden boy wasn't involved, Granny. Otherwise we're going to arrest him and question him as the main suspect in the sabotage of two COG Ravens."

Bernie didn't really think about what she did next. Her fists did the lack of thinking for her to be more exact. She landed a punch squarely on Alex Brand's jaw, very much in the same location that she'd once punched Baird when he'd insulted Marcus back in the early days of their acquaintance. Alex had much the same reaction as well. Getting punched on the delicate area where the jaw hinge met wasn't a pleasant experience.

"Only Baird gets to call me Granny," said Bernie. "He earned it. You haven't."

And as had happened before, Bernie found herself being bundled out of the room by Marcus, past the guard dogs of Sheba Elan and Dale Jefferies, who were looking like they'd expected to be the ones to do what Marcus was doing.

Marcus didn't let go until they were well out of hearing range of the others.

"Fuck!" shouted Bernie, with frustration. "You should have let me keep going."

"And have you stuck in the guardhouse when you're better out here looking for stuff that could clear Baird? No," said Marcus. "We need to keep our heads here."

"Brennan said that Baird helped her do the maintenance on Five-Three," said Bernie.

"It could be the wrong time period. We know that the sabotage of Eight-Zero was weeks before it went down," said Marcus.

"But she's right about his expertise. Baird could have done this," said Bernie.

"If he had then he'd have covered his tracks better," said Marcus. "He wouldn't have left evidence around that could only point to him."

"She's not going to take that as a defence and the evidence is stacking up against him," Bernie pointed out.

"It's still all circumstantial," said Marcus.

"That might be all she needs," said Bernie. "I told Anya that this was a witch hunt, and I meant it. If they get sniff of someone to blame for this then they'll be down on him like a ton of bricks, and they won't care if it turns out later that they hit the wrong guy. We barely have a functional legal system and Gavriel's looking for an easy win, and because of that, a bunch of arseholes are about to accuse our friend of being an Ostrian spy. That's where we are, Marcus. That's how screwed up this thing is."

"Then we'd better do something about it," said Marcus, and he turned to head back into the Archive Room.

* * *

Sam knew that Baird had been looking forwards to the day that the cage came off his leg pretty much ever since he'd woken up in the Med Centre almost nine weeks previously. The apparatus was bulky, uncomfortable, painful and had (indirectly) caused an infection in his bone. It had meant he'd been stuck in a wheelchair for weeks and then hobbling around on crutches after that. Admittedly he'd still need a walking stick for another few days after it came off, but eventually he'd be able to walk unaided again. This was a big thing.

She couldn't quite understand therefore why he was behaving somewhat irrationally now. He hadn't wanted her to come with him to get the cage taken off, and they'd argued about it. She'd refused to take no for an answer, and told him that she was coming in no uncertain terms.

She'd got him to the Med Centre on time, with no breakfast because Hayman wanted the option of using general anaesthetic and that required an empty stomach ideally. He'd complained about being hungry, but otherwise had been unusually quiet. She'd accompanied him to his allocated room and then he'd just seemed to turn into a bundle of nerves at the sight of the bed laid out with white, sterile sheets.

"You don't need to be here. You've done your duty and got me to the door," said Baird. He was doing his best to pace around the room, despite his crutches. His gloved hands were clenching and unclenching their grip on the hand rests.

"Yeah, I know," said Sam, "and now I'm going to help you get ready. Then I'll be with you while Hayman takes the frame off, okay?"

"I just don't want you to hang around when you've got better things to do," said Baird.

"I don't have better things to do," said Sam. "Anya gave me the day off and Marcus practically ordered me to make sure you got here on time. Even if they hadn't, then I'd still be here."

Baird hobbled back to the bed and sat down tiredly. He put his crutches down.

"What's wrong?" asked Sam.

"Nothing. I'm just about to have metal pins pulled through my bone, that's all," said Baird.

"This is probably the easiest thing that you've done lately," said Sam. "All you need to do is lie still while Hayman takes the frame off. Yesterday you were working on getting a nuclear power plant online."

Baird gave a half-hearted nod, and Sam realised that Baird was worried.

"Come on, let's get you ready," said Sam, hoping that keeping him occupied might help.

Baird took off his shoes and pulled his legs up onto the bed. Hayman and Jensen appeared a few moments later with equipment and painkillers. He lay back against the pillows, trying to get comfortable, while Jensen set about getting the equipment laid out. The tools actually looked more mechanical than medical. Sam grabbed Baird's right hand which was nervously clenching and unclenching, and held it.

"This should be very straightforward," said Hayman. "I'll give you some painkillers and then we'll get started."

Hayman was right about that. Everything went according to plan. In many ways the removal of the frame looked more like something Baird did in his workshop than a procedure that should be done in an operating theatre. The thin wires were cut through with clippers and the screws and nuts undone with a screwdriver and adjustable spanner. The circular outer frame was removed, leaving only the wires through the bone, which Hayman pulled out carefully with grippers. The holes left behind bled profusely and Jensen busied himself putting sterile dressings over them, especially the ones from the large screws, but that was the worst of it. It did look excruciatingly painful and Sam was glad that Baird had allowed Hayman to give him the extra painkillers. The entire process took about fifteen minutes and then the frame was gone.

Baird let out a long breath. "When can I get out of here?"

"I'd like to do some x-rays, but after that, we'll fit the brace and you can leave once I'm happy that you can walk on it," said Hayman, and she left the room to ready the x-ray machine.

Baird lay back on his pillows and smiled a relieved smile. Sam leaned in and gave him celebratory kiss, which he returned with enthusiasm.

"Feeling better?" asked Sam.

"Definitely," said Baird.

X-rays followed and they showed that the leg had healed well enough that a brace was all that was needed. Hayman then produced a plastic boot that wrapped around Baird's leg. It had a soft liner that stopped the hard plastic from rubbing, but meant Baird's healing leg would be supported. The doctor released Baird, but told him to rest in his quarters for the rest of the day. Sam was able to walk Baird out of the Med Centre on both feet, using only a walking stick and with her boyfriend in a noticeably better mood than when he'd entered the building.

"We've got the rest of the day off," said Sam, as they walked through the Med Centre's entrance.

"Yeah, we do," said Baird. "What do you want to do?"

"Well, Hayman did say you should go back to your quarters…" said Sam, leaving that hanging for Baird to interpret himself.

"Are you suggesting that we celebrate my new found freedom?" asked Baird, with a raised eyebrow.

"The thought had crossed my mind," said Sam. She looked up to see an ATV pull up. Bernie got out of the driver's seat and made her way towards them, with Sheba Elan and Dale Jefferies a pace behind her.

"Hey, Mataki," said Baird, with a smile. "Look, no more hardware."

Bernie didn't return the smile. She had a look on her face that suggested she was steeling herself for something unpleasant. "Baird, I'm sorry."

"Huh? What for?" asked Baird, clearly confused by Bernie's apology. "And what's with the goon squad?"

"I'm here to arrest you for sabotaging the two crashed Ravens," said Bernie, her face showing no emotion.

"What?" asked Sam, with disbelief.

"Very funny," said Baird. "Why are you really here?"

Bernie straightened up, took out a small piece of paper from her pocket, and then used a tone of voice which she only ever reserved for official occasions.

"Sergeant Damon Baird, I'm arresting you on suspicion of espionage, communicating with enemies of the COG, destruction of COG property, and attempted murder of COG personnel. I am authorised to restrain you and take you into custody for questioning. Anything you say after this point may be used in evidence at a future trial. You have the right to remain silent but it may be taken as confirmation of your guilt. Do you understand the caution?"

"Yes, I fucking understand the caution," said Baird, with barely contained anger. "This is so much bullshit. You know that I didn't do this."

"I'm sorry, blondie, but I thought you'd rather it was me than Alex Brand," said Bernie, glancing behind her.

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Baird, with resignation, and then he held out his wrists, "go on then, snap on the cuffs."

Bernie looked like she really didn't want to, but she took out a pair of circular metal cuffs and pulled his arms behind his back. She fastened the cuffs around Baird's wrists, being careful not to tighten them too much or wrench his arms. Sam vaguely remembered hearing that Bernie had done a stint with the MPs at one point, so she knew how to arrest someone. She wondered if there was anything that Bernie hadn't done in her long career.

"He doesn't need to be cuffed," said Sam, angrily. "He can't walk without his stick."

"Sam…" began Baird, warningly.

"Procedure," said Jefferies. "He can lean on one of us."

Sam rolled her eyes, because there was nothing at all humiliating about making your prisoner lean on his captor for support. This was totally unnecessary. It wasn't like Baird was going to run away with his leg in a brace, and where would he go anyway?

"You're not actually going to let them do this?" asked Sam, looking to Bernie.

"I don't have a choice," said Bernie. "Procedures have to be followed, especially now when any signs of favouritism could hurt Baird later. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Sam nodded. She understood, but that didn't make this any better. Bernie turned back to Baird.

"Are you armed?" she asked.

"I'm not armed, but I've got my Marandaian Army knife in my top pocket and a set of screw drivers in my left pants pocket," said Baird. "Give them to Sam and she'll keep them safe."

Bernie took the items that Baird had mentioned and then Jefferies patted him down for any concealed weapons. They didn't find any. Baird hadn't anticipated doing any work today so didn't even have many tools on his person and, ever since he'd been diagnosed with epilepsy, he wasn't allowed to carry a gun.

Bernie reached up and apologetically unhooked the radio from Baird's his ear. Sam could see the look of defiance settling in Baird's eyes. He wasn't going to take this lying down.

"Where are you going to be holding him?" asked Sam, pocketing the knife and screwdrivers.

"We're going to put him in the guardhouse," said Bernie. She was talking about the cells in the Ops Building. "He'll be fine there until we can get this all straightened out."

"Yeah," said Baird, without any real humour. "Prescott was always worried that someone would lock him up down there, so he made sure the beds were all comfy." His eyes caught Sam's. "You've got to tell Cole. I don't want him hearing this from anyone else."

Sam nodded. She took two rapid steps towards Baird and kissed him hard. Sheba pulled her off after less than two seconds.

"We'll sort this out," said Sam, as she was pushed backwards. "Marcus and Anya will know what to do."

Baird was shaking his head. "Don't get involved, Sam. Promise me."

Jefferies was supporting Baird on the side of his bad leg, and was now pushing him to limp away towards the ATV that they'd arrived in. He was trying to look back at Sam, but she was being moved away by Sheba.

"Screw you, Damon Baird," shouted Sam. "I'm already involved."

"You should pay attention to your boyfriend," said Sheba, with a final shove. "Or else you might just end up joining him."

The former Stranded followed Bernie, Jefferies and Baird down the path, leaving Sam standing on her own, still trying to process what had just happened. Sam tapped her radio.

"Byrne to Ops. Get me Captain Stroud. It's a priority."

* * *

Anya had been waiting for the call. She'd thought about warning Baird of what was about to happen. She'd thought about telling him to run, but it would have just made him look guilty and Baird wasn't exactly capable of running at the moment. She was also well aware that he was at the medical centre getting the frame taken off his leg and she didn't want him worrying about this while that was done. No, this was the only option. He'd be safe in a cell and they could work at clearing his name. It should never get to trial.

"Stroud here, go ahead Sam."

"They arrested Baird," said Sam, breathlessly. "We were just leaving the Med Centre and Bernie rolled up with two of Alex Brand's goon squad…"

"I know," said Anya.

"You know? What do you mean, you know?" asked Sam, angrily.

"I had to authorise the arrest," said Anya. There was no point lying about this. Nothing official happened on Azura without Anya's sign off and Sam knew that even if she hadn't connected the dots yet.

"Why didn't you warn us?" asked Sam, still cross.

"I don't want to discuss this over the radio. Grab Cole and come to my office. We'll discuss our next move when you get here."

Marcus arrived about ten minutes later and was followed by an angry looking Cole and Sam.

"Baird got arrested?" asked Cole, with shock and anger in equal measures. He hadn't even waited to get through the door before he started shouting. "You know he didn't do this, Anya. Why did you let that bitch get her hands on him?"

"They have evidence," said Marcus, looking grim with his arms folded over his chest.

"Yeah, right," said Sam. "Evidence that they probably made up."

Marcus shook his head. "Legitimate evidence. He's the only person on Azura that could reprogram the engine controllers. And the black box from Five-Three suggests that the tampering was done during the last maintenance round, which Baird helped carry out, and he'd done maintenance for Eight-Zero too, but there's more."

"Bernie found a reference to him in one of the files on the Ostrian scientists that were captured during Operation Leveller," said Anya.

"What? That doesn't make any sense," said Sam.

"When he was at La Croix, he met a girl called Katia Masters. She was the daughter of Anna Meurig. She was one of the Ostrian scientists who worked on the UIR Hammer of Dawn technology," said Anya. "All indications are that they had a relationship."

"At La Croix? That was nineteen years ago," said Cole. "They're accusing him because he went out with a girl?"

"Added to his expertise, the time frames and the radio message, it's enough," said Anya.

"Wait, what radio message?" asked Sam.

Anya went to her desk and found the piece of paper that she was looking for. "We picked this up over the radio in the crashed plane a few weeks ago. Daniel Carmine translated it." She read out the words on it. ""One Raven down. Test case successful. Mechanic embedded in COG technical structure damaged. Ivo assessing. " Daniel gave us alternate translations because the message wasn't exactly clear. He says that "damaged" could also mean "injured". "Mechanic embedded in COG technical structure injured" would be a perfectly reasonable way to read it."

"They think that's talking about Baird's accident?" asked Sam, the disbelief clear in her tone.

Cole was shaking his head. "It's not Baird. They must be talking about someone else. I've known Damon Baird for eighteen years. We went through basic training together and we've been in a fuck ton of firefights since then. I know him about as well as I know myself. He's an asshole, but he's my friend, and he's not an Ostrian spy."

"None of us think that he's a spy," said Anya, because it apparently needed to be said.

Marcus nodded. "He's Delta. We _know_ he's not a spy."

"So how do we get him out of this?" asked Sam. "Alex is gunning for him and the evidence against him is pretty damning. How do we start dismantling it? If this went to trial would they have enough to convict him?"

"I don't know," said Anya. "I'm not a lawyer and we're still looking for anyone with trial expertise in relation to trying Prescott for war crimes. But that's civil law and this is military. If it goes to a trial then Colonel Hoffman should be the presiding officer, but he knows the accused too well to be able to render a fair judgement, so I don't know… There's politics involved in this and everything we do is being watched and reported back to Gavriel. I need to talk to Hoffman about this whole mess. That's all we can do for now."

"That's it?" asked Sam, angrily. "That's all we can do? Baird's stuck in a cell. He's an epileptic who's still recovering from a traumatic brain injury and we let Alex Brand put him in a cell. She's going to interrogate him and I don't trust her to do it by the book."

"Bernie's got instructions not to let him be questioned until we can get Hayman down there to give Alex the rules of engagement," said Marcus.

"I have a lot of respect for Boomer Lady," said Cole, "but she couldn't stop Baird being arrested. Is she going to be able to stop Alex from just storming on in there?"

"I'm going down there as soon as we're finished here. I'll be there to back her up," said Marcus.

Anya nodded her approval. They might not be able to stop Baird from being arrested but they could at least be certain that he was treated properly.

"I've asked Bernie to make sure that she's present during any questioning," said Anya.

"We all know how this works," said Sam. "Interrogation is about keeping going until you have the information that you want, or you know for sure that it isn't there to find. Alex isn't going to just give up and go home."

"Then we'll have to do some investigation of our own," said Cole. "We need to get to the bottom of this and fast."

"Damn right," said Sam. "The sooner we get this sorted out the better, and then we can kick Alex Brand back to Anvil Gate and say good riddance."

"I agree, but you all have to be aware that we're working with military law here, and it's a lot more lenient when it comes to what is allowed during interrogation. It's also very clear what the punishment for espionage is, and that's before you get to the other charges that Alex insisted upon," said Anya. She didn't want to have to say the words for some reason, but Sam said it for her.

"Are you telling me that if Alex can prove Baird did this then he'll be executed?" asked Sam, her horror finding its way into her words. She glanced from Anya to Marcus.

"Death by firing squad," Marcus confirmed, solemnly.


	20. Chapter 20

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: And I'm back! Sorry for the long wait and thanks for the reviews for the last chapter.

* * *

Sam stormed out of Anya's office. She couldn't listen to Anya and Marcus discuss things anymore. Marcus's confirmation that conviction on espionage charges would mean Baird would face the death penalty was too much for her to handle right now. She was angry. She was beyond angry and she had to do something to quell this raging painful, fire of injustice. She made a quick decision and tapped her radio. Someone had to do something and at the moment there was only one person who could fix this easily.

"Byrne to Ops. Give me a location for Sergeant Brand."

"This is Ops. When she last checked in she was on her way to the guardhouse to interrogate a prisoner," replied the Operator.

"Okay, understood. Byrne out."

She'd guessed as much. She jogged down the path, past the leafy groves that normally she loved. Right now she didn't have time to admire the scenery. She could see Alex Brand just ahead of her. She was with Keller and coming towards her from the direction of the mess hall. She'd probably been having a nice lunch whilst her thugs arrested Baird, which made Sam see red immediately.

"Brand! What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

She closed the gap to the red headed Sergeant rapidly. Alex stopped in the middle of the path, a hand rested almost casually on the boltok pistol in the holster at her hip.

"I assume you're talking about Jefferies and Elan arresting Baird? I have evidence and it all points to him. I have no choice but to go where the evidence takes me," said Alex.

"Bullshit," replied Sam. "He didn't do it and you know it."

"I have evidence that says he did," replied Alex, forcefully.

"You've got a bunch of coincidences and a six month relationship that happened over eighteen years ago. If we still had a proper legal system then this would have been kicked out ten minutes after you arrested him." Sam was finding it increasingly hard to restrain her anger.

"But we don't, and right here, right now, it's enough for me to bring him in for questioning," said Alex. "And then it's only a matter of time until I find the right trigger to make him confess."

"You bitch. You were our friend. We thought you were our friend!"

"I've got no choice. I have to arrest whoever the evidence points at."

"You lying bitch. You knew Baird would be top of the suspect list because he's the best mechanic on the island. You came here to find something that would take him down because you _still_ think he's responsible for killing your squad."

"He is," said Brand, coldly. "And now he's going to pay for it."

Sam wouldn't have expected that to be the trigger, but her already tenuous hold on her temper lost its grip and her fist flew towards Alex's face. It connected with a joyous explosion of pain in her knuckles that must have transferred tenfold to Alex's face. However, Alex returned in kind and soon the two Gears were in a full-on fight, grappling with each other and throwing punches. Keller looked like he might step in and try to pull them apart, but Alex snarled at him "stay out of this" and he stepped back again.

The two traded blows for a few seconds. Sam could taste blood in her mouth. She spat it out onto the ground before dodging a punch and launching another attack of her own. She was light on her feet, but, disappointingly, Alex was definitely the better fighter. Her movements were more instinctual than Sam's, as if she'd needed them from a very early age. However, Sam could hold her own. She'd grown up in Anvegad and whilst her childhood had been happy, it hadn't been easy. One of her mother's main complaints about her daughter was that she was always getting into fights. Apparently nothing had changed.

Sam could hear the sound of heavy footfalls behind her and knew that someone was coming to break up the fight. Suddenly Cole was stepping between them and then he grabbed Sam, pinning her arms to her sides. She'd seen him do this to Carmine once, when Clay had drunk a few too many beers and decided to take on the largest guy in Beta squad. She'd never thought she'd be stupid enough to need the same treatment. She was usually better at staying cool, but Baird's arrest had definitely affected her judgement. She found it hard to see why Alex hated him so much.

Sam struggled against Cole, barely listening to the platitudes that he was spouting. She noticed now that a few other people had gathered to watch the fight.

"Hey, she's not worth it," was the final thing she caught. "We don't need any more members of Delta in jail. Come on, Sam. You know this isn't going to help, baby."

Sam finally shook off his grip, but didn't make any attempt to go back to the fight. "You're going to pay for this, Brand. You're blaming an innocent man for something he didn't do."

"Prove it," spat back Alex, using the back of her hand to wipe blood away from her split lip. "I've got evidence. What have you got?"

"I know him!" shouted Sam, somewhat desperately.

"Baird's a murderer and traitor, and he's been hiding behind Marcus Fenix's reputation far too long, Princess."

"Hey now," said Cole. "Baird's innocent until proven guilty and that means you can't go saying that stuff until there's been a trial and he's been found guilty."

"Then I'd best get on with questioning him," said Alex.

She walked backwards for a few steps, as if she was making sure that Sam wasn't going to resume the fight, but then turned away. Keller handed her a handkerchief as they walked towards the guardhouse and she pressed it to her torn lip.

Sam kicked at the ground. "I think I've made things worse."

"I don't think things could be much worse, baby," said Cole. "But I doubt one fist fight is going to change anything either way."

"There's got to be a way we can prove he didn't do this," said Sam.

"Yeah, but I don't know my way around a Raven's guts, and neither do you. I can't see any other way of working out who sabotaged them," Cole asked.

"Then we talk to someone who does," said Sam.

"Corporal Brennan?" asked Cole.

"Yeah," said Sam. "Baird didn't do it, so my money's on the next best mechanic."

Cole frowned. "I don't know about that. Brennan's always been on Baird's side."

"She gave the report on the sabotage to Alex. Anya told me that's how she got on to this in the first place," said Sam. "She said it was an accident, but it might have been deliberate."

Cole shook his head. "I don't believe it."

"Okay, then let's go down to the workshop and ask her."

"Yeah, let's do that," said Cole. "Maybe we should stop off and get some ice for your face. Alex can hit."

"She really can," replied Sam, with annoyance. Her knuckles were grazed and Alex had got a good couple of punches in. She could only imagine the bruises on her face. Marcus was going to kill her.

Cole all but escorted her to the kitchen where they found an icepack. At least he wasn't making her go to the med centre. Hayman would not have been pleased to see her. Come to think of it, as soon as Baird saw the bruises, he was going to be pretty pissed off. He'd told her not to get involved and here she was, getting involved.

* * *

The annoying thing about being arrested, thought Baird, was that he'd sort of seen it coming. Alex had it in for him. He'd known that from the moment she'd bawled him out in the Embry Labs. Now she had a position of power, of course she was going to use it to exact her petty revenge for his perceived failings.

He didn't make any attempt to resist, but he didn't make it easy for Jefferies to get him to his cell either. He leaned on the tall Gear a bit more than was strictly necessary as they walked him from the ATV to the guardhouse. He was going to be the only resident. They generally only used these cells for Gears who had drunk too much or got in a fight or needed somewhere to cool off or sober up. Anya had once threatened him with the guardhouse when he'd been being stubborn about obeying her order to get some rest. If he'd paid attention to her then he might not have fallen off a roof.

They emptied his pockets completely, right down to the pencil stub and notebook he always had with him, took his painkillers, and as a final insult, they wouldn't let him keep his goggles. Bernie said she'd keep them safe, but Bernie wasn't exactly his favourite person at the moment, even though he knew she had no choice when it came to his arrest. Then they opened the door to a grey walled cell, he limped inside and they shut him in. He heard the key turn in the lock and the bolt slide across.

This was going to suck. The room he was in was a state of the art prison cell, because Prescott had insisted on the best of everything for Azura, including jail cells. It held a bed, which was a slab of the same grey synthetic material that the rest of the cell was made of. It stuck out from the wall, otherwise unsupported, and had a mattress resting on top of it. There was a wash basin, which again was simply moulded out of the cell's walls, a toilet, made of cold-looking metal, and a small table with a stool, both of which were more slabs that stuck out from the wall. Up above head height on the wall opposite the door was a very small window, covered with a metal grate that was embedded in the wall. It let in very little light, but Baird could tell that it was sunny outside. The room wasn't big, but it wasn't a Locust prison cylinder either. He could cope with it, although he was betting this place was going to trigger all his worst childhood nightmares and sleeping wasn't going to be much fun.

He sat down on the bed and looked around him. He was still kicking himself for not finding a way out of it. Then again, he'd probably just have looked more guilty if he'd started trying to head off Alex's crusade. He had no idea what the evidence against him was, but he guessed that they'd probably tell him soon enough. And of course, he just had to be with Sam when they decided to come for him. He really, really wished that he was back in his quarters with her now.

He lay down on the bed. The mattress was hard and the sheets felt like sandpaper. It was a narrow bed with a single pillow. To be honest, he was amazed Brand had even let him have this. He supposed that she couldn't get away with just throwing him into a bare cell, especially with Bernie watching. He could try to sleep but, as tired as he was after his eventful morning, he didn't think he'd manage it. His brain was working and moving too fast for him to shut down easily. It was considering all the things that he'd done that Brand could possibly be using against him. He was willing to bet that the fact that he was a mechanic and had done maintenance on both helicopters was probably enough for her to start building a case against him.

His leg was reminding him that he hadn't done this much walking on it for a while and it was throbbing painfully. He considered thumping on the door and asking for his painkillers but the idea of moving again was unappealing. In the movies the guy in jail always had something to keep him amused, whether it was a ball or a rock or scratching out the days on the wall. Wow, he hoped he wasn't in here long enough to need to do that.

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the key in the lock and the door being pulled open. Marcus and Hayman stepped into the cell. Marcus gave a nod to the guard outside and the door was closed behind them.

"Yeah, come on in," said Baird, indicating the room with a wave of his arm. "It's not much but I call it home." He pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"Are you okay?" asked Marcus, clearly giving him an assessing look as he asked. He was definitely angry, but not at Baird. Someone had screwed around with Marcus Fenix's flock and Baird knew that this was not going to end well for the perpetrator if Marcus had any say in the matter. He was very glad to be on this side of Marcus's wrath for once. Unfortunately Marcus didn't have the ability to rewrite laws or magic the evidence against Baird into non-existence.

"Yeah, all they've done so far is put me in here," said Baird. "I've seen worse barracks." He really wished that wasn't true, but Gears didn't usually get to pick their accommodation when they were on the front line.

"The doctor's going to take a look at you," said Marcus.

"I kind of assumed she hadn't just come for a social visit," said Baird, with resignation. "Don't want your prisoners dying on you."

"This is a serious matter, Sergeant," said Hayman. "You have a condition that is exacerbated by stress, and if this isn't stressful then I don't know what is."

"Try standing beside Marcus while he takes on the Locust Queen," said Baird.

Hayman just gave him an annoyed look and stepped towards the bed, taking out her stethoscope as she did so. She sat down, with her medical bag between them and put the cold stethoscope to his chest, pushing his t-shirt out of the way. Baird just let her do what she needed to.

"Did you take your medication this morning?" asked Hayman, putting the stethoscope away.

"Of course," said Baird. "I like days when I don't have seizures."

She pulled out a penlight and shone it in his eyes. Baird tried not to complain about this.

"Have you eaten today?"

Baird paused for a moment before answering. Despite the fact that it wasn't his fault, he was probably going to get in trouble for this. "No."

"Damon," grumbled Marcus. Apparently he had picked up Cole's annoying habit of calling him Damon when he'd done something wrong.

"Not his fault," said Hayman. "I asked him not to eat until I was sure we weren't going to be removing the frame under general anaesthetic. You should eat now, though. I'll get them to bring you something. I'll also ask them to bring you your pain medication and make sure that you have access to it as required. Give me a moment."

Hayman went back to the door and knocked to be allowed out. The door was pulled open and she exited, leaving Baird alone with Marcus.

"Where's Granny?"

"On the line to Hoffman with Anya," said Marcus. "They're trying to talk Gavriel into letting them takeover the questioning. It could take a while. But Bernie did put her foot down and said that she had to observe every interview session."

"So… how bad is this?" asked Baird.

"Pretty bad," said Marcus, leaning against the wall by the door. "You heard the charges."

"Yes, but is this just Alex throwing her weight about, or do I actually have to worry that they've dug up some stuff to frame me with?"

"There's evidence. You worked on all of the helicopters, you had the expertise and there are a couple of other things that Alex doesn't want me to talk about. It was enough that Anya couldn't stop them from arresting you," said Marcus. "We've stated your medical condition and that you shouldn't be questioned for longer than two hours at a time without a break. But Alex has filed to treat you as an enemy combatant. That means that the gloves are off. You still have rights under the Adena Convention, and we've made sure that Alex is aware of those."

"Great, so I'm screwed," said Baird.

Marcus just gave him a dark look, and Baird knew he was about to get a stern talking to for giving up so easily. That probably just meant that Marcus didn't get how much Alex obviously hated him. She'd gone to a lot of trouble here. Unless of course she really did believe that he'd sabotaged those Ravens, in which case the situation might be worse than he thought. She'd be even more zealous if she believed in his guilt.

"This isn't over," said Marcus, with the kind of confidence that only he could manage. "You're not going down for something that you didn't do."

"The famous Fenix can-do attitude. Never say die and all that bullshit. If Anya couldn't stop me from being arrested then she won't be able to stop Brand from putting me on trial either, and you know how that ends."

"So tell me where to start digging," said Marcus, frustration showing in the tone of his voice. "There's something out there that's going to prove you didn't do this. I need to know where to look."

"I can't tell you that until I know what all the evidence is," replied Baird, with exasperation.

"Take an educated guess," said Marcus, equally annoyed. "We can't afford to wait around and if we can cast doubt on some of it then that might be enough."

Baird thought back. "Brennan told me that Eight-Zero didn't have any mechanical faults that she could find. Most of the damage was caused by the fire that happened after the landing. I told her to look at the engine controller module. It's got software that gives the engine instructions to make it run more efficiently. If the program had been corrupted then it could have caused a loss of power like Five-Three described as they were coming in to land."

Marcus was nodding suggesting that Baird was on the right track. "Okay, but you had access to that software."

"Yeah, and I know how to reprogram it. I have in the past, just to correct faults. It can be unintentionally corrupted if maintenance is done wrong, but the flight crews at Anvil Gate are usually pretty careful and it's much more likely to result in a helicopter that just doesn't fly."

"So, someone definitely did this deliberately?" asked Marcus.

Baird thought for a moment, but couldn't see a scenario in which it could have happened accidentally. "It would have to be a thousand to one chance for it to happen twice. No, someone did this deliberately. Although I've got some bad news for you on that front."

"Worse than you being in a jail cell?"

"It might mean you can't clear me," said Baird. "As far as I know, I'm the only person left in the COG who can reprogram a Raven engine controller. Anvil Gate usually ask me to do it because none of them are properly trained up on it."

Marcus hung his head for a moment. "That's going to make things difficult. We're back to Bernie's theory that there's an imposter."

"I need to see the engine controller code and see what was done to it. I might be able to work out how it was done then and give you an idea of the type of person who could have done it. I've been training Brennan up on it, but she's not got the expertise to make a Raven drop out of the sky just before it reaches Azura."

"They're not going to let me bring evidence in here for you to poke at," said Marcus.

"Then you might as well start assigning Gears to the firing squad," said Baird, "because I can't think of another way to work out how someone did this, Marcus."

Marcus's mouth was set in serious line but he didn't look confident. "I'll do what I can."

Hayman returned at that point with food, water and painkillers. Baird hadn't ever been more glad to see the doctor in his life. He'd forgotten how hungry he was and the painkillers would be welcome relief for his aching leg. Marcus waited with him whilst he ate, but there was very little conversation.

He'd just finished his meal when Sheba Elan opened the door. "Sergeant Brand is ready to start questioning him."

Marcus moved out into the corridor. "Keep your head," he directed at Baird.

Baird gave him a nod of acceptance. Pissing off Alex Brand would just make things worse.

Baird was cuffed again, this time with his hands in front, ushered out of his cell and down the corridor to an interrogation room. They didn't give him his walking stick back so he was still leaning on Jefferies for support. As he entered the interrogation room, he realised that they'd cuffed his hands at the front so that he could be attached to the restraining point on the table in the interrogation room.

Yeah, this was going to be a lot of fun, he thought, as Sheba pushed him down into a metal framed chair. She passed the cuffs' chain through the restraining point and snapped it shut. Alex Brand entered the room a moment later, and Sheba took the seat beside her. There was a large square mirror behind them, and Baird knew that there was an observation room behind it. Bernie was probably sat in there right now, listening in to every word that they said. He felt strangely like he was letting everyone down, and was almost embarrassed to be sat in this room awaiting questioning.

Alex looked down at a notebook. She had the beginnings of a black eye coming and a swollen lip that looked like it had only recently stopped bleeding.

"I hope the other guy came off better than you did," said Baird.

"Other girl," said Alex, and then looked up at Baird with a slight quirk to her lips. "And no, she didn't."

Baird's expression changed. He didn't think Bernie was responsible and Alex wouldn't have bothered with the smirk unless it was someone who meant something to Baird. He'd bet good money that Sam was the one who'd done that to Alex's face and he wasn't going to let Alex make him think she'd come off worst. He knew his girlfriend, and she could hold her own.

"This interview is being recorded and may be admissible as evidence. The time is 11:30 hours on the 9th day of Heat 17 AE. Conducting the interview are Sheba Elan and Sergeant Alexandra Brand of Mayor Gavriel's espionage taskforce, with Sergeant Bernadette Mataki observing."

"You're a taskforce now? That's fucking hilarious," said Baird.

"State your full name for the record," said Brand, already looking annoyed. So much for trying not to piss off his interrogators.

"Sergeant Damon S. Baird, Delta Squad, currently assigned to manage the Azura Engineering Workshop," said Baird.

"You're still under caution and you've heard the charges. Do you have anything to say before we get started?" asked Alex.

"Yeah, _you_ know that I didn't do this, _I_ know that I didn't do this, why the fuck are we wasting our time here?" asked Baird. If he could have folded his arms across his chest then he would have, but the chain on the handcuffs wasn't long enough. "I really hope this doesn't have anything to do with Zeta Squad."

"I'd very much like to believe that you're still loyal to the COG and the oath you swore to uphold the Octus Cannon, but I've collected a long list of evidence that tells me you're the spy we've been looking for. Why don't you tell me about Katia Masters?"

"Katia Masters? You're kidding me. What the hell does a relationship that I had before E-day have to do with this?"

"Oh come on, you're not telling me that you didn't know that she was Ostrian?" asked Alex.

"No, she told me her mother was Ostrian and that she'd defected during the Pendulum Wars, but honestly, we were too busy fucking each other to have much time for idle chit chat. Oh and then, you know, the Locust attacked, so I joined the army. She wanted to get back to her family in Ostri. I've got no idea what happened to her after that. She's probably dead, like everyone else that I knew before E-day," said Baird.

"She suggested to you that you should defect to Ostri with her? Or perhaps join the army as a sleeper agent?" asked Alex.

"She asked me to go with her to Ostri," said Baird, "but obviously I turned her down or I wouldn't be here now. No one ever raised the idea of me being a sleeper agent for the Ostrians. Where do you get this stuff? I thought we'd used all the pulp fiction spy stories for firelighters. No one cared about Pendulum War rivalries. Everyone just wanted to kill the grubs."

"Let me read you something from Anna Meurig's file: "Subject's daughter has been spending increasing amounts of time with another student, Damon Baird. He has developed a bond with her quickly that Katia seems to exploit. Katia still harbours sympathies for her homeland and Baird is potentially easily led due to his estrangement from his parents and awkward social demeanour. She appears to be his only friend on campus and otherwise he spends his time in the company of Professor Elliot. He accompanied her to an anti-COG rally yesterday. Further surveillance advised.""

"I was impressing a girl," said Baird. "You wouldn't know this, Brand, but occasionally men do that so that they can get in your pants."

He didn't want people to hear about how he hated his parents and all the reasons why, and he couldn't let Alex know that she'd touched a nerve. As usual he was covering by coming up with something that would deflect attention away from the current topic. Alex was determined, however.

"It talks about how she exploited your relationship. It says that you were "easily led"," said Alex. "Poor Baird. No friends and no money. She can't have been interested in a loser like you for your good looks alone. Are you sure she didn't whisper sweet nothings in your ear and persuade you that Ostrian doctrine was more to your taste than being part of the COG?"

"I was 17, but no, I didn't think that Ostrian ideals were better than Tyran ones. They're all equally fucked up," said Baird. He bit down quickly, wishing he could take that back.

"That's the Octus Canon you're talking about, Sergeant. Those are the rules that we all live by, and they're fucked up?" asked Alex.

"In places," said Baird. "But then the Locust War began and none of that seemed very important. I lost my parents and my home, and fighting the grubs was all I wanted to do."

"So you waited nineteen years and then carried out the mission that Katia gave you," said Alex.

"No," said Baird. "That's just ridiculous."

"So the Ostrians got in touch. How?"

Baird rolled his eyes. "You're living in a fantasy world, Brand. The Ostrians never contacted me."

"What was your mission?" asked Brand.

"Fuck you," said Baird.

"Who was your Ostrian contact?" she asked.

"Fuck. You." Baird enunciated the words carefully to give them extra weight.

"Strange name," said Brand. "Why did you sabotage those two Ravens?"

"I didn't."

"But you have the expertise to do it and you were the one who carried out the maintenance on both occasions. You're the only one on Azura who could have done it."

"But I didn't."

"You did and I have the black box to prove it. Stop lying to me. What was your mission?"

"Go screw yourself, Brand."

The prisoner and interrogator stared at each other for a moment.

"Let's start again from the beginning," said Brand, and she did.

* * *

Marcus left the guardhouse, knowing that Bernie would keep an eye on things and contact him if she thought it looked like Alex was taking things too far. He just had to hope that Baird didn't manage to piss her off any further. Not that the situation could get much worse, but knowing Baird, he'd probably find a way to do it.

Marcus hoped that he hadn't let it show, but he was worried about leaving Baird in jail at the mercy of Alex Brand. Until recently he'd considered Alex to be an ally and someone that he could count on to have his back, but now it was like he didn't even know her. The death of the rest of her squad had changed her overnight into someone that he didn't recognise and didn't know what she was capable of. He didn't trust her anymore.

The solution to all this was to find the real saboteur and clear Baird's name. He needed to follow up on the information that Baird had given him and talk to Brennan about the engine controller software. He headed down to the Azura workshop, once again under Corporal Brennan's management due to Baird being unavailable.

When he arrived he found that Cole and Sam had beaten him to his destination and were already stood discussing Raven engine controllers in Baird's office with Brennan. The door was half closed so he only had a partial view of the people within and they couldn't see his approach. However from the sound of raised voices, the discussion didn't appear to be exactly amicable.

"How many other people on the island could do this? It's you or Baird, and I know that Baird didn't do it," said Sam, her voice unmistakeable.

"It wasn't either of us," said Brennan. "Baird's only started training me up on the engine controller software recently. We haven't had much time for anything that isn't urgent and this wasn't."

"But you gave Alex the report on the downed Raven," said Cole.

"Yes, but she was on post duty that day," said Brennan. "She basically stole it. I didn't intentionally give her a confidential document. It was supposed to be for Colonel Hoffman and Captain Stroud's eyes only. Honestly, I'm still kicking myself for that bit of stupidity. I should have known that she'd cause trouble, given her recent history with Baird, but I just didn't think she'd... Besides, I was the one that brought the sabotage to Lieutenant Fenix's attention. Why would I do that if I was the spy?"

Marcus saw Sam's shoulders sag and then she perched on the edge of the desk, her arms crossed loosely over her chest.

"Shit, we're back at square one," said Sam, in extremely disheartened tones.

"Sorry, Bren, but we had to ask," said Cole.

Sam added her own muttered "yeah, sorry."

Brennan waved off the apology. "We're all worried about Baird."

Marcus decided that he'd heard enough. He made sure that his footsteps were loud enough that they could hear him coming and pushed the door open so that he could be seen.

"What's going on?" Then Marcus frowned as he caught sight of Sam. "What happened to you?"

Sam sighed. "I may have got into it with Alex Brand."

Marcus gave her one of his best glares. That wasn't going to help matters, but she wasn't the first person to feel the need to hit Alex Brand and Marcus himself had needed to rein his temper in. Still, he was her commanding officer and he couldn't let this go.

"What the hell were you thinking, Sam? She's got Baird in a jail cell and you decided that punching her out would help?"

"I didn't set out with the intention of having a fight," Sam retorted, angrily. "I just wanted to talk it out with her and make her see that what she was doing was wrong. Then she all but admitted that this was still about Zeta squad and I saw red."

"I'm only going to say this once. Stay away from Alex Brand and her goons," said Marcus, making it very clear that he meant every word. "That goes for both of you. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Marcus," replied both Sam and Cole. They sounded duly contrite, so he guessed that would have to do.

"Okay, let's concentrate on finding a way to get Baird out of this," said Marcus. He turned back to Brennan. "I spoke to him and he thinks the answer is in the engine controller software code. He reckons that if he can see the code then he might be able to work out who did this. They won't let him anywhere near the actual evidence, so we need a way for him to be able to look this over."

"Will they let him have access to a computer terminal or maybe a portable tablet?" asked Brennan. "I could put a copy of the code onto a tablet and then he can view it there. I'll make sure there's no way it can be networked."

"If you can bring it to his cell, that might work," said Marcus.

"Okay, the only problem is that the code is going to take a while to transfer and I need to actually get the tablet working. We don't have many and they're all in various states of malfunction," said Brennan.

"This is top priority. Drop what you're doing and get working on it," said Marcus. "I'll okay it with Captain Stroud."

"What about the rest of the evidence?" asked Cole. "They didn't make up that stuff about there being an Ostrian girlfriend?"

Marcus shook his head. "It's in a file that Prescott put together. There's no reason for it not to be accurate, but we can argue that was a long time ago and Baird's killed a lot of grubs since then. But the encrypted radio message doesn't feel right to me."

Sam nodded. "I'll ask Daniel to go through the intercepts from that day again. It's just one message, and we haven't picked up any more about sabotaging the helicopters."

"But there's been radio chatter about Baird's arrest," said Brennan. "Maybe they're listening to us, like we listen to them, and they know we've got a suspect in custody. If it was me then I'd want to help make him look as guilty as possible."

"She's got a point," said Sam.

"Yeah, but that doesn't help Baird," said Cole.

"Then we keep digging until we find something. Bernie thought there might be more in the files, but that's a lot to go through. Alex is going to want to move to formally charging him and then trial as soon as she can. We don't have much time," said Marcus.

"Hey, who needs sleep?" asked Cole. "Just tell me what I should be looking for."

"I'm not sure, but if we don't look then we won't find it," said Marcus. "We'll just have to see if there's anything unusual."

"That's the rest of my day planned out then," said Sam. "The archives it is."

* * *

It was the full two hours before they gave up and let Baird have his break. Brand and Keller were back less than half an hour later and they continued to question him on every aspect of the evidence that they had for another two hours without a break. This pattern continued until late into the evening. By the time they returned him to his cell to sleep and eat, he was beyond tired. He was inviting a seizure and he knew it.

Bernie dropped by to check on him before she left for the night. She looked almost as tired as he felt. She left him with more promises that she was working to get him out of this, but he wasn't stupid. He knew that her words were just empty platitudes at this point. There was only so much that could be done to overturn the evidence against him, and Bernie was just trying to make him feel better. It didn't really work.

When Sheba and Jefferies woke him in the middle of the night, he knew that he was in trouble. It only took him a few seconds to work out that this was part of their interrogation technique and Bernie probably wasn't going to be sat in the other room this time. They were aware that he needed to sleep to control the epilepsy and that it would stress him further to have a seizure, as well as leaving him tired and sore. This was all stuff that would make it harder for him to think straight when it came to answering their questions.

"When Anya hears about this, you're going to be on the first boat back to Anvil Gate," said Baird, sleepily, as they secured his cuffs to the table in the interrogation room again. He put his elbow on the table and leaned his head on his hand.

"You've been declared an enemy combatant. That means we can do what we like with you," said Sheba.

"It actually doesn't, and I'm not your enemy," said Baird, too tired to summon up the enthusiasm to swear at Sheba. He could feel the imminent seizure pressing on his brain. He really hoped it would hold off until he wasn't chained to a table.

Sheba put a piece of paper down in front of him and handed him a pen. "Sign that."

Baird looked down at the piece of paper which was filled with dense type. He didn't have a hope in hell of reading it. He was tired and the words danced around on the page as he tried to make them out. It would take him hours.

"Sure, if you get me my goggles and let me read it. It'll probably take a while. I'm dyslexic," said Baird.

"It just says that you reaffirm your belief in the Octus Canon," said Sheba.

"I don't remember the Octus Canon being that long," said Baird.

"If you don't sign it, then you're basically saying that you hate the COG," said Sheba. "It's the kind of thing that a spy would do."

"I'm asking you to get my goggles so that I can actually read what I'm signing," said Baird.

"I'll get you a copy of the Union Pledge to sign instead," said Sheba, referring to the UIR equivalent of the Octus Canon. He was wondering now what Sheba had done before she became Stranded. She sounded too sure of herself to have never done this before.

"I didn't say that I wouldn't sign it, I just want to check what you're asking me to sign," said Baird, getting increasingly annoyed. Just how stupid did they think he was? He wasn't going to sign anything without reading it.

Jefferies picked it up and read it out loud. It sounded like the Octus Canon and a few words around it that reaffirmed that he was signing it voluntarily as a mark of loyalty to the COG. The Gears' Oath was tacked on the end for good measure.

"There, you've heard what it says," said Sheba. "Sign at the end."

"No," said Baird. "I'm not signing anything that I haven't read."

"Then you're refusing," said Sheba.

"I'm not refusing. I just want to read it for myself," said Baird. This was going around in circles, which again was probably another tactic. Some people might have felt cowed into signing it by now and have confessed to who knows what.

Sheba went round the loop a couple more times using slightly different words and Baird continued to refuse to sign without reading. His brain decided that now was the moment to have a seizure. The disco lights started flashing behind his eyes.

"I'm about to have a seizure," he said, as clearly as he could manage. "You need to undo the cuffs and get me on the floor, otherwise you're going to have a lot of questions to answer."

He heard Sheba say "finally" and then the seizure took him under. When he came to, he had no idea where he was. No one was saying anything and there wasn't anyone near him that he could see. He needed several minutes before he could even move and then bits and pieces started to come back to him.

"Crap," he murmured, and he realised that he was still cuffed to the table in the interview room.

His wrists hurt and he could see where they'd bled from the cuffs cutting into the skin. He felt like shit. His arms and shoulders hurt. His head hurt. His ribs hurt. Everything hurt. He felt himself wrenched backwards and into a sitting position. He didn't see the punch to his head coming, but he felt it.

"Hey, head injury," slurred Baird.

"Sign the paper," said a female voice.

Baird didn't recognise her. He was very confused. He shook his head, because he didn't know what was going on and he wasn't doing anything until he had his wits about him. It had the effect of making him dizzy and more disorientated.

"I'm ordering you to sign this, Sergeant," said the voice, once more.

The fist found his face again. He jerked back.

"Sign the paper," said the voice, and a pen was put in his hand. "Do you want my friend to hit you again?"

He could taste blood in his mouth and he had no idea if it was from the seizure or the assault.

"If you sign it, then you can go back to bed," said Sheba.

Baird put the pen to the paper. He still hesitated. Things were coming back in pieces but the dizziness and the confusion were pushing all rational thoughts out of his head. Then suddenly a door was being wrenched open and someone was shouting something.

"What the bloody hell is going on in here?" shouted a second woman's voice, but this one sounded older and more familiar.

"This is an interrogation, and you're not authorised to be here," said the first woman, the one who had put the pen in his hand.

"I'm still involved in the investigation, and you answer to me. Get out of here, both of you. Leave me the keys to the cuffs."

Baird tried to persuade his brain to work out what the hell was going on. He finally got that it was Bernie who had come in. This had the feel of a rescue about it, but Bernie didn't look like she needed rescuing.

"Granny," he murmured. He could hardly hold his head up. All he wanted to do was sleep. His eyes closed, not completely voluntarily, and he rested his head on the table.

"I said, get out!" shouted Bernie.

His two interrogators left the room, and suddenly he felt someone undoing his cuffs. There was the click of a radio being activated.

"Mataki to Ops, I need Hayman down at the guardhouse now… Yes, I'm aware of what time it is. No, this is an emergency. Then, I want you to wake Captain Stroud and Lieutenant Fenix and get them down here too… Didn't I just get through telling you that I know what time it is."

Fingers were pressed to his throat, finding his carotid pulse and resting there for a few long moments. He felt the beating of his blood in his veins against her fingertips and knew it was fast for a resting pulse.

"Shit, Blondie, I'm sorry. I am so sorry," said Bernie.

"_You_ didn't hit me," said Baird, slurring his words together in the way that only really happened after a bad seizure.

"No, but I thought they might try to pull something like this. I should have been camping out down here," said Bernie. "Do you think you can stand?"

"Stand, sure. Walk? Not a hope," said Baird. "Had a seizure."

"Okay, maybe we should just wait for Hayman. Hey, open your eyes," said Bernie.

Baird pulled his eyes open and looked up at Bernie. "Don't need Hayman. I don't think they understood my unique sense of humour," he mumbled.

"Yeah, we all have difficulties with your sense of humour," said Bernie, fondly, but with a somewhat forced smile.

He lost track of time for a bit and didn't start really paying attention until Hayman arrived, rapidly followed by Marcus. He could hear Anya shouting at someone down the corridor, but it wasn't really his top priority right now, although it would have been fun to listen in. Bernie and Marcus were carefully lifting Baird out of the chair, which he would have protested against if his brain hadn't been a tangled mess of disjointed memories and sensations. They carried him out of the room and back down the hall. He was placed, surprisingly gently, down on the cot in his cell.

"Can I sleep now?" asked Baird.

"Not yet," said Hayman, shining a light in his eyes. She was obsessed with that stupid light and Baird hated it with every fibre of his being at the moment, because it hurt. He was already bruised and aching from the muscle spasms; he didn't need light burning his retinas too. A headache was beginning to make its presence known behind his optic nerves.

Hayman ran through a series of questions that were designed to gauge his awareness, and he guessed he passed because after that she let him close his eyes. He could feel the sting of someone cleaning the cuts on his wrists and they persuaded him to take his pain pills with some water, but reality was definitely far away and faint. He drifted into sleep without noticing the transition.

* * *

"He's asleep," said Bernie.

Marcus just gave a nod. He'd been calm, because Baird needed him to be calm and hitting people wasn't going to help. He couldn't tell Sam off for resorting to her fists and then do the same himself. It also would probably result in Marcus getting a stay in the cell beside Baird's, although as both Sam and Bernie had managed to get away with it, the temptation was great.

"The seizure seems to have been a bad one," said Hayman. "He'll probably feel sore for a day or so."

"And the rest of it? Did he get that from having a seizure?" asked Marcus, indicating a blossoming bruise on his friend's cheek, already half knowing the answer.

Hayman gently tilted Baird's head so that they could see that the injury had fairly well defined knuckle marks. "I can only think of one thing that makes a mark like that when it hits. The broken skin around his wrists could be from not having the cuffs removed when he was seizing."

"That's just cruel," said Bernie.

Baird suddenly went rigid.

"Help me get him onto the floor," said Hayman, "he's seizing again."

Bernie and Marcus moved quickly. They'd both been here before and knew what to expect. Bernie grabbed the blanket from the bed and folded it so that it cushioned Baird's head. As Baird convulsed relatively quietly, they could hear Anya shouting at Alex Brand. Sheba and Jefferies had been the first targets of her ire, but Alex had been summoned soon after Anya's arrival.

"What the hell was Baird doing in an interrogation room at 2am in the morning, Sergeant Brand? It was made very clear to you that he has a medical condition and that Sergeant Mataki would observe all interview sessions. You gave me assurances that he would be safe and you would abide by the Adena Convention. Even an enemy combatant has rights! This amounts to torture. That man helped save the goddamned planet and you just let your men treat him like shit."

"I did not authorise this," said Brand, equally loudly. "The injuries were sustained when he had the seizure. But I'll admit that they were somewhat overzealous with their questioning. However, we need to get information out of the prisoner. We can't use the Raven fleet until we have confirmation one way or another that we've caught the saboteur, and we have an enemy on our doorstep."

Marcus gave Bernie a quick look and got to his feet. He wasn't needed by Baird's side right at this moment, so he walked back through to the interview room where he picked up the piece of paper that had been on the table. He'd seen it when they'd moved Baird, and Sheba and Jefferies had to be up to something. There was a spot of blood on one corner.

"I, Damon S. Baird, being of sound mind, confess to being an enemy of the COG and sabotaging two Raven helicopters belonging to the COG." It went on, but Marcus got the general gist pretty quickly. He stormed down the hallway.

He held out the piece of paper to Alex. "Did you plan this? Did you purposefully put him under conditions where he was likely to have an epileptic seizure and then try to get him to sign this?"

Alex looked Marcus in the eye and then looked away. "No," she said. "We didn't know that this would happen, and it was all Sheba and Jefferies anyway."

"He's dyslexic. He can't read this without his goggles. What did they tell him it was?" Marcus' eyes held the promise of a barely contained storm behind them.

"A confession," said Brand. "They didn't lie to him. He refused to sign it, so they moved on. It's standard procedure to see if a confession can be got from the prisoner."

"Bullshit," said Marcus, with anger.

"I want all of you off my island first thing tomorrow morning," said Anya.

"Then we'll be taking our prisoner with us," said Alex. "Our orders supersede your authority here, Captain."

"You're not taking Baird back to Anvil Gate," said Marcus, with undisguised animosity.

Anya was looking very unimpressed. "When I inform Hoffman what happened here tonight, he'll most likely revoke your orders."

"But until then, this is still my investigation. If this was anyone else, then you'd be using any and all tactics to get an answer out of him. It's only because Delta is fucking bullet proof that you're getting away with letting him off the hook. I'm going to be asking Hoffman and Gavriel for permission to use Special Measures," said Alex.

"Aren't you a little late on that? If Mataki hadn't come down here to check on Baird then you'd have kept beating on him," said Marcus.

Special Measures was the term used in the Onyx guard for eliciting information by force or other usually illegal means. Authorisation could be given if the information was considered sensitive enough, and permission had been given freely in the past. Marcus still remembered how Trescu had shot a Stranded prisoner to get information out of some other Stranded. He'd hoped that the COG had put all of that behind them, but Hoffman certainly wasn't above such things. He especially didn't want Baird subjected to it, and not just because he was a friend. No one deserved to be tortured, but Baird was still recovering from his most recent stay in the Med Centre and had an ongoing medical condition. People broke under torture certainly, but they broke even when they weren't guilty and you couldn't trust information retrieved that way.

"I've already explained that they weren't. Mataki's got it all wrong. She needs to recuse herself because she knows the prisoner personally. She shouldn't have even been here. Hoffman shouldn't be making decisions about Baird either," said Brand.

"Not true," said Anya. "The only time he's been in direct command over Delta was when we were on Vectes. Since then we've barely seen him."

Bernie came out to join them. "Hayman's supervising seizure number three of the night. Someone's going to have to sit with him until the morning now. Hayman says he might be going for a personal record, and that there will absolutely be no questioning him tomorrow. She's prescribing a day of bed rest."

Alex shrugged. "Well, that gives us a day to sort out extradition to Anvil Gate, or at least work out who's in charge of this interrogation." She stalked away down the corridor.

"Shit," said Marcus.

"When did this get so bad that Alex Brand became the top of my list of threats?" asked Anya, once Alex was out of hearing range.

"I don't know," said Marcus, "but we have to work out who really did this soon. Baird's not well enough to be in a cell for much longer."

"What are we going to do if Brand gets orders to take Baird back to Anvil Gate?" asked Bernie.

"Then we'll have to let her," said Anya. "The military chain of command is fragile enough in this place without putting extra strain on it. If we ignore orders then it's a mutiny."

"We'll just have to hope that doesn't happen. Baird wanted to look at the engine controller software," said Marcus.

"He can't," said Bernie. "It's evidence and he's the one suspected of sabotaging it. If we let him look at it, then he could change things. None of us have the right training, so we'd never know. If this goes to trial and it comes out that we let the accused anywhere near the evidence against him, well, we'd be in a lot of trouble. They'd probably count it towards his guilt too."

"I know," said Marcus. "I talked to Brennan and I think she has a way to let him see it without using the original evidence. Basically she's going to fix one of the tablet computers and put the code on there. I told Brennan that this was top priority and that I'd clear it with you."

"It's fine with me," said Anya. "Maybe he'll be able to take a look at it tomorrow when he's feeling better. Alex still only has circumstantial evidence and each bit alone wouldn't be enough. If we can even topple one piece then I think I can make a good case for clearing him."

Marcus nodded, he was glad of Anya's cool head in times like this. Her experience as an Operations controller stood her in good stead when it came to remaining calm in stressful situations.

"Who gets to tell Cole and Sam?" asked Bernie.

"I do," said Marcus. "Squad leader privilege."

"Are you sure?" asked Anya. "It should be my responsibility. I should have made sure he was safe whilst he was in custody."

"Can you stop Cole from trying to kill Sheba and Jefferies?" asked Marcus.

"Can you stop Sam from storming down here to break Baird out?" countered Anya.

"I really hope so," said Marcus.


	21. Chapter 21

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Hey there new followers and reviewers! Real Life is being stupidly busy at the moment. I'm doing my best to find time to write, but it's tricky. Also I think Baird is mad at me for locking him in jail cell without his Samantha, so he's refused to talk to me. It happens. Hopefully he'll forgive me now.

* * *

Sam awoke to someone knocking on her door. The events of yesterday had been stressful to say the least. Finding Marcus at her door at 7 am didn't really make her any less worried. She took one look at his face and knew that something bad had happened.

"What's wrong?" she asked, as she ushered him into her room and closed the door behind him.

"Baird had a series of seizures," said Marcus. "They were questioning him at 2am. He hasn't been aware enough to ask him what actually happened, but Sheba and Jefferies were trying to get him to sign a confession. We're fairly sure that they hit him and I think they waited until he'd had the seizure to do it. They probably thought they could pass it off as injuries sustained during the seizure."

"I'm going to kill them," said Sam, fist clenching at her side. "And then I'm getting Baird out of that cell."

Marcus was already shaking his head. "That's not going to help anyone. Hayman's with him and he's going to be fine."

"Marcus, he's not safe in that cell," said Sam. "I told you that Alex is out to get him. Can I at least see him?"

"Sorry," said Marcus. "He's not allowed visitors."

Sam sighed. This was not what she wanted to hear. She could only imagine how miserable Baird probably was at the moment and she doubted that any of this was good for his mental state.

"There's more," said Marcus. "Alex wants to take him to Anvil Gate."

"Can she do that?"

"Maybe. If she gets Gavriel's backing and Hoffman agrees." Marcus looked as if he wasn't entirely sure that Hoffman wouldn't agree. He actually looked a little worried, or as worried as Marcus ever managed to look.

"What can we do?" asked Sam, "we can't let her take him. You know what'll happen to him if we let him go."

Marcus nodded. "Anya's doing her best to stop it. She was on the radio to Anvil Gate as soon as the sun was up over there. I thought you could come with me to get Cole and then we can head back to the archives."

Sam nodded, got herself presentable to leave her quarters and then the two of them went to wake Cole. He had a similar reaction to her own when he saw the two of them at his door so early in the morning.

"Shit, what's happened now?" asked the former Thrashball player, standing in the doorway and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

They could see Aurelie, newly awoken, moving around in the room, wearing one of Cole's old t-shirts that practically came down to her knees. Clearly the two had been together last night. Sam was sort of pleased that Cole had found someone, and she kind of liked Aurelie. The two of them were being more open about their relationship now and it was now pretty much public knowledge that they were an item. So far she seemed to be good for Cole and even Baird was okay with his best friend's choice.

Marcus gave Cole the details of Baird's assault and the series of seizures that he'd suffered. Sam had predicted that this would result in some sort of angry explosion from Baird's best friend and she was completely right.

"Those, motherfuckers," said Cole. "I'm going to take them to pieces! They beat on an epileptic!"

There weren't many things that got Cole riled up, but people hurting his friends was one of them. People hurting Baird was guaranteed to make him angry. Sam knew that Cole was quite happy to stand back and let Baird fight his own battles, but if his opponents went too far then they'd have him to answer to. He hadn't stepped in when Bernie had punched Baird, because the mechanic had deserved it by all accounts, but when two guys had taken offense to something Baird said in a Jacinto bar, Cole had made his feelings very clear. Two on one wasn't fair. All he'd had to do was stand there and the would-be-attackers thought better of their plan. Baird complained that he could have taken them and was mad at Cole for a whole ten minutes before they went back to their usual banter. It had made Sam smile. Unfortunately no one had been there to protect Baird this time.

"I'm going to kill them!" shouted Cole, and it was the first time Sam had ever heard him use those words and sound like he meant it literally.

"No one's going to do anything," said Marcus. He was one of the few people who could match Cole in size and bulk. "If you start a fight with Jefferies and Sheba, you're just going to give Alex a reason to put you in the cell next to Baird. I am getting pretty fucking tired of having this conversation. We don't need anyone else in jail. Right now, the best way to help Baird is to overturn the evidence against him. Brennan's been up all night working on getting something fixed up so that Baird can look at the engine controller code. Our job is to dig into the archives and see if we can find out who the real saboteur is."

Cole took a deep breath. "What they did… it ain't right, Marcus. They need to pay for that."

"And they will," said Marcus. "But we've got more pressing matters to attend to. They want to take Baird to Anvil Gate and we've probably only got a day to make sure that doesn't happen."

Sam hadn't known that part of the equation. "Shit. Alex really took the gloves off."

"Which is why uncovering who did this is our best bet for getting Baird out of this," repeated Marcus.

"Are you going to the Archives again?" asked Cole.

"Yeah," said Marcus. "The answer's got to be in there somewhere. You should come too."

"Keeping an eye on us, Marcus?" asked Cole.

"For the moment," said Marcus, honestly. "I know you'd rather fix this the old fashioned way, but we need to keep our heads and not make this worse. We're missing something big here, but once we've got that, I think we're close to finding out what's really going on."

Aurelie, now dressed, appeared behind Cole. "I would like to help. Baird helped me set up lab and I would like to return favour. I can't believe he is spy." Her accent sounded event thicker with the residue of having recently awoken behind it.

"We'd be glad of the extra pair of hands," said Marcus.

That was it then, thought Sam, another day in the archive room trawling through paperwork until they could find the proverbial needle in the haystack that might clear Baird. She couldn't help but feel a little disheartened that this was the only thing that she could do. Still, it was better than sitting around doing nothing.

"We should go through the messages from the encrypted transmissions again and make sure we didn't miss anything," said Sam, trying to come up with anything that they hadn't already tried. "Maybe Daniel can come down and help with the Ostrian transcripts."

"No need," shrugged Aurelie. "I speak Ostrian. I used to talk to scientists over there, before E-Day. If I'm allowed, then I'd be happy to help."

Sam nodded. "I'll check with Anya that you have clearance, but it should be okay. We've been looking for another Ostrian speaker to help with the translations."

"Should have asked the Gorasni. A lot of us used to have ties to Ostri. Was nice place to go on holiday once," said Aurelie, with a slight sigh.

"Not anymore," said Marcus.

* * *

Baird awoke in his cell and had no words to describe just how bad he felt. He was one giant ache. He took inventory and decided that there wasn't a single muscle in my body that didn't feel like it had been torn it in two and sewn it back together with a rusty needle. Okay, so maybe he could describe how bad he felt, it just required a little imagination and creative vocabulary. He looked around himself and realised that Doctor Hayman was sat at the table, apparently reviewing some charts, and the cell door was open. The groan that he let out as he tried to move alerted her to his return to wakefulness.

"You decided to wake up then," said Hayman. It was a statement not a question. "You've had seven seizures in a row of varying intensity and length, most of which you slept through but I imagine you feel terrible right now."

Seven seizures was a record even by Baird's standards. Before this, he'd only ever managed five in one twenty-six hour period and he'd already had more than that before the day got going. His life really did suck, and he didn't think he was exaggerating by thinking that at the moment.

"I feel like I had seven seizures in a row," Baird murmured, tiredly. "So, yeah, absolutely shit."

Hayman took a capped syringe out of her pocket. "This contains painkiller and muscle relaxant. I promise it won't have you seeing pink elephants, but it will make you feel better. As per your instructions, I need your permission to give it to you."

"Morphen?" asked Baird.

Hayman nodded. "A low dose."

Baird sighed. He really did hurt and he was beginning to trust Hayman's promises when it came to sensible use of painkillers. "Crap. Give it to me."

Hayman cleaned a small area of skin on his upper arm and stabbed him with the needle. It took a few moments for the drugs to work but they took the edge off the pain. They also made him sleepy and he dozed on and off for a while, enjoying the fact that his brain was as numb as the rest of him. He didn't have to think about what had happened the previous night or worry about what was going to happen tomorrow.

He awoke several hours later, judging from the light. Bernie had replaced Hayman, and on the table in front of her were a tablet computer and a stack of files. She was currently going through one of the files.

"I need a babysitter now?" asked Baird, a little crossly, and in a voice that sounded raspy and tired. "Can't I even get some peace when I'm in jail?"

"Sorry, blondie," replied Bernie, with a smirk. "Whatever Hayman gave you, it knocked you out like a light. But you're on seizure watch until she can make sure she's got your medication balanced again."

"Awesome," said Baird. "Fucking awesome."

He scrubbed a hand over his face. He was so tired of all this shit and he hated the fact that he was stuck on a cot in a cell rather than in his own room. And he hesitated to admit this, even to himself, but he really missed Sam. He was so used to sleeping in the same bed that she slept in that being without her was ramping up all the feelings of wrongness that this situation was already giving him.

"Brennan dropped off a tablet for you. It should have everything you need to look at the engine controller software." Bernie passed over the device to Baird, getting up so that he wouldn't have to move from his bed.

"About time," said Baird, although he was actually glad to have something to keep himself busy with.

He shuffled himself up into a seated position, even though every single muscle protested at the movement. Hayman's painkillers were still working, but their efficacy was fading. He took the tablet and began scrolling through the information that he found there, very quickly realising that he couldn't read it. He was still tired and groggy from the medication, reading was going to be even more hard work than normal.

"You got my goggles?" he asked.

Bernie handed them over and he pulled them down over his eyes. He turned all his attention to the code transcript that Brennan had downloaded onto the tablet, and did his best to ignore Bernie. He became quickly engrossed in the information that she'd just presented him with.

"You need anything else?" asked Bernie. "Are you hungry?"

Baird looked up for a moment. His stomach informed him that he was definitely not up to eating yet. "No, whatever Hayman gave me, it's not making my stomach happy." He knew that it could just as easily be the seizures as it was the medication, but he didn't need complicate things for Bernie.

"Okay, but you should drink some water," said Bernie, and she handed him a cup with some water in it.

He looked at the cup for a moment and then took it from the South Islander and downed it in one go. It was like he'd suddenly remembered that he was thirsty. He suspected that whatever had been in the shot that Hayman gave him was still screwing with his head and making him a little disconnected. It was that or the seven seizures he'd had the previous night, at this point either could be to blame. He handed the cup back without so much as a thank you and turned back to the tablet.

"You're welcome," said Bernie, with sarcasm but no bite.

Baird ignored her. He frowned, all his attention taken up by simply reading. Brennan had definitely been right about the sabotage. It was in the code, if you cared to look for it, but the way that it had been written suggested that it hadn't been added later. It actually looked as if it had been intentionally added at the point the code had been written. It was too seamlessly incorporated to be a later addition and it didn't fit with either a tentative novice's style or a hack job done by someone who wasn't an expert. That was strange to say the least, and it would have been very easy for Brennan to draw a different conclusion from the code in front of her and think that someone must have done this recently. However, that meant Marcus and the others were wasting their time, because there was no saboteur to be found amongst the ranks of the COG mechanics or a hidden defected scientist. The code seemed to be activated from an external source by remote control and that could be someone that was miles from Azura. They could even be in Ostri, although that might be a little far.

Ostri. That thought spurred Baird to take what he had and make a mental leap of intuition and faith. He knew that during the Locust War, the COG had taken parts for its machines from wherever they could get them. Maybe they'd started doing it much earlier than he'd known about. The problem was that he had only very scant evidence to back this theory up and the possibility of getting more was slim to nil.

"Bernie, I need to talk to Marcus," said Baird, he was tired and the concentration it had taken to look over the code had cost him most of the little energy that he'd had. Stupid epilepsy, it really was a pain in the ass some days. "Can I borrow your radio?"

Bernie raised an eyebrow. "No, but I'll relay a message for you."

"Tell him that they're looking in the wrong place for their saboteur. If he wants more detail than that, he'll just have to come down here himself."

"Yeah? That's all you're going to give me?"

"Look no one's going to believe me anyway. Of course the guy that's accused of being the perpetrator's going to come up with some way of explaining how he didn't do it," said Baird.

Bernie's brow wrinkled in puzzlement and possibly concern, but Baird wasn't convinced of that. "It would still help to have an alternative, and there has to be a way to convince Alex that she's wrong."

"Good luck with that," replied Baird, and then his slow brain metaphorically tapped him on his shoulder and pointed out that there was one person who might actually be able to help him. Assuming that his memory had the right bits intact, which really wasn't a given at this point, but he'd clutch at this straw if it gave him a way out.

"Prescott," said Baird.

"What about him?" asked Bernie.

"Prescott could verify what I'm saying, if he remembers handing out the defence contracts to the lowest bidder," said Baird.

"What does that have to do with anything?" asked Bernie. "You're not making sense, blondie."

"Look just get Marcus to ask Prescott if he remembers who got the contract to make the engine controllers for the last batch of Ravens to come off the line and then wake me when he comes down here for the explanation."

With that, Baird closed his eyes and tried to let the residue of the painkillers in his bloodstream send him off to sleep again. At the moment sleeping was actually preferable to being awake. Being in jail was dull and the walls were beginning to feel like they were closing in. He had to get out of here because he doubted that Alex would leave him alive next time she got a chance to have someone work him over.

* * *

Sam sat Aurelie down with all the transcripts and tapes from the encrypted intercepts from the crashed aeroplane. She, Cole and Marcus delved into the rest of the archives once more, putting aside anything that could be interesting for further study. They didn't get much beyond opening the first file, because Aurelie called them over after only a few minutes.

It had taken her about ten seconds to work out that something was wrong with Daniel Carmine's translation of the message that they'd intercepted, the one that supposedly related to the downed helicopter and incriminated Baird. Working out what it was required her to listen again to the taped transmission.

The message was crackly with static, making it hard to hear.

"Have you got something?" asked Sam.

"Maybe," replied Aurelie. "Recording is bad and the message is unclear. Doesn't surprise me that he'd hesitated over the exact wording: "damaged" could definitely also mean "injured". That is not problem. The problem is word "mechanic". I can see why he went for "mechanic", and the two words, very similar, but have very different meanings. This word not "mechanic", this word is "mechanism". They weren't talking about a person, they were talking about a thing."

"Are you saying that they're talking about a mechanism embedded in some machine?" asked Sam.

"That would be best guess, yes," said Aurelie.

Marcus and Cole had stopped what they'd been doing to listen in. Cole dropped the file that he was working on and came around to give Aurelie a huge bear hug.

"Baby, you are every bit as smart as I thought you were," said Cole, planting a kiss on Aurelie's lips. "Come on, we can get our boy out of that jail cell now."

"Hold your horses," said Marcus. "That's not enough to clear him. We need to knock down one of the other things that they have against him before we can spring him. This was always the weakest link in their case."

"He has a point," said Sam, with an exasperated sigh.

Marcus' radio clicked at him. The incoming transmission was on the squad frequency, so Sam could hear that it was Bernie.

"Baird thinks Prescott might be able to remember something that could help us. He said to tell you that you're looking in the wrong place for the saboteur," said Bernie.

"And how the hell does he know that?" asked Marcus.

"I have no idea, but I gave him the tablet with the code on that Brennan brought to the cell. He went through it all and then told me to call you and tell you that," said Bernie. "He's asleep again now, but he said to wake him when you want to come over and talk."

"Did he now?" said Marcus, with just a touch of annoyance. "I'm pretty sure Hayman told him to rest. He needs the sleep after last night. We'll give him a couple of hours and then we'll round up Prescott and come over."

"Got you," replied Bernie.

"How is he otherwise?" asked Marcus.

"Tired, a little dopey from Hayman's drugs, and a bit battered, but he seems mostly his usual delightful self. I still haven't asked him about what happened last night, but I figure we'll get to that one later," said Bernie.

"He let Hayman give him morphen?" asked Sam, because that meant he was in more pain than he felt he could cope with. Usually his stubborn desire to keep his brain sharp and his worries about addiction prevented him from accepting painkillers.

"Plus some other stuff," confirmed Bernie. "She may have neglected to mention that he'd probably be really sleepy on this stuff, but like Marcus said, he needs the rest."

Sam really hoped that this was something that Baird never had to experience again. Seven seizures in one night were too many, and if he hadn't been in jail then Hayman would probably have admitted him to the Medical Centre again. Alex had been dead set against that and since it wasn't an emergency situation and they didn't want to antagonise her further, they'd given in. Having someone in the cell with Baird had been the compromise. Hayman was considering upping his meds again, at least partly because he'd had breakthrough seizures before this. It worried Sam because Aurelie still hadn't succeeded in synthesising his epilepsy medication and this would probably result in an increased dosage again.

Marcus concluded the conversation while Sam was distracted and then radioed Anya. He passed on the details of Aurelie's new translation of the radio message, and requested an audience with the Prescott clone. This was going to be interesting. Sam prayed that Baird was right and this would clear him.

* * *

Anya had seen Prescott several times over the last few weeks. Ever since Anvil Gate had suggested that he should be put on trial, she had been stopping by his room on a daily basis. He still had a guard detail assigned to him and she wasn't thinking about getting rid of it any time soon. He would go to the mess hall most evenings and people would still shout curses at him. She'd hoped that familiarity would mean they'd get used to him being here and show them that he wasn't a threat, but people had long memories. His clone predecessor had probably ordered the deaths of the squad mates of half the Gears on the island.

Prescott himself seemed to barely be bothered by it. He definitely wasn't exactly the Prescott that she'd served under, but there were times when it was very hard to tell the difference. Physically he was much younger than the Prescott who'd abandoned the COG at Azura, but mentally his accent was the same, his mannerisms were the same, and even though his memory had a lot of holes in it, he would occasionally come out with something that had Anya forgetting he wasn't the real Chairman Prescott.

His memory was going to be a problem now. Anya had been glad when it quickly became clear that he didn't have a complete set of the memories of Chairman Prescott, it made it easier to differentiate him and she could truthfully tell people that he wasn't the same man. However, now they were relying on him knowing something so that they could clear Baird's name. This situation was screwed up beyond belief.

She'd asked Prescott and his security detail to meet her at the Guardhouse, after giving him a quick explanation of the situation. He'd been enthusiastic to help. He'd said something about how it would be a nice distraction from attempting to come up with reasons why he shouldn't be tried for war crimes. He'd been spending a lot of time in one of the many libraries that Azura possessed. His security detail had told Anya that he seemed to mostly be reading philosophy books and she wondered how he expected that to help him.

After Anya had dealt with all the business related to the day to day running of Azura requiring her attention, it was time to meet everyone at the Guardhouse. Baird should have had sufficient sleep by this point, but the rest of Delta would be getting antsy if she left it much longer. Marcus didn't have much patience when it came to protecting his squad members.

She walked into the Guardhouse to find Prescott and Marcus waiting for her. The two were eyeing each other somewhat suspiciously, although Prescott also appeared to be attempting some kind of conversation. She put both of them out of their misery and led them through the hall, giving a short nod to the Gear on the desk, to the cell block. She knocked on the door frame of Baird's cell.

Bernie was still sat at the table with a file open in front of her. Baird was sleeping, but jerked awake at the knock. The bruises on his face were turning interesting shades of purple and the knuckle marks were very clear.

"Do you feel up to visitors?" asked Anya.

"I thought this was jail and I didn't get a choice," said Baird.

"Hayman says otherwise," replied Anya. "I brought Prescott and Marcus. He said that you'd worked something out about the helicopter engine controller code."

Baird did his best to push himself up on the cot and Bernie stepped over to help him without a word. He was clearly in a fair bit of discomfort.

"Get off," growled Baird. "I can manage."

"I'm sure you can, blondie, but it'll hurt less if I give you hand," said Bernie.

Baird grumbled again, but she didn't hear what he actually said. He finally made it into a sitting position.

"Bring them in," said Baird. "This should be good."

Anya beckoned Marcus and Prescott in. It felt like Baird was holding court even though he was the one in the cell.

"You called," said Marcus, sarcastically. "What did you find?"

"I worked out what's going on and why we can't find who's responsible, or at least why there aren't any obvious suspects apart from me," said Baird. "I couldn't get past the problem that there isn't anyone else who could have reprogrammed these things, but when I looked at the code I realised that this isn't something that someone changed. It's always been there."

"I don't understand," said Anya. "What do you mean it's always been there? No one would intentionally put a program in a helicopter engine controller that would bring down the helicopter, and if it was done by mistake, why are we just finding it now?"

"It wasn't done by mistake. It was deliberate," said Baird. "This is where Mr Prescott comes in. It's standard practise to give military hardware contracts to the lowest bidder. Right?"

Baird looked at Prescott.

Prescott nodded. "That's not exactly a secret, Sergeant Baird."

"No, but you never told anyone that you let the UIR bid on the contracts," said Baird. "At least not anyone that would make it public."

Prescott raised an eyebrow, and gave Baird the beginning of a rather dangerous smile. "It made sense. The UIR was practically bankrupt after the end of the Pendulum War. If they hadn't had a way to keep their populace employed then entire countries would have collapsed into economic disaster, which would have spread to the COG in a fairly short time. Sera is, was, a global economy, even then. And it meant the COG got a good deal on parts for their military hardware."

"So you remember this stuff?" asked Marcus, looking at Prescott.

"Some of it. Although I'm not entirely sure that remember is the correct term, since strictly speaking it wasn't this body that experience those events. The closer I get to my predecessor's death, the harder it becomes to remember. But the period after the Pendulum War, I remember quite well. Things become more sketchy after that," explained Prescott.

"Giving defence contracts to the enemy sounds like a particularly stupid thing to do," said Marcus.

"They weren't the enemy," said Prescott. "They'd just signed a treaty to join the COG, almost all of them. Ostri and Pelles had always been centres of industry and manufacturing. If we'd lost that then we might not have been able to hold out against the grubs for as long as we did. Your father might never have been able to build his doomsday weapon."

Baird prevented the debate from continuing any further.

"Whilst this is all fascinating, I'm not that interested in why it happened or if it was a good idea. It happened. The big question is this: do you remember who got the contract to manufacture the engine controllers for the Ravens?" He folded his arms carefully over his chest and trying hard not to wince at the action.

"I'm sorry, I don't," said Prescott.

"Damn it," said Baird, looking away from the assembled group.

"You think that whoever manufactured the engine controllers put a backdoor in the code during development and manufacturing," said Anya, with realisation. "You think they're bringing the Ravens down remotely?"

"Yeah, I mean there was a real possibility back then that war might break out again and if they could ground the entire Raven fleet then they'd have a pretty solid advantage over the COG. But without any evidence to prove that, I'm just as screwed as I was before." Baird looked up somewhat dejectedly at Anya and the others, and let out a long breath.

"There might be records," said Prescott. "The specifications for the Ravens would have come across the desk of someone in Azura. There was a defence procurement evaluation team here."

"I left Sam and Cole in the Archive Room," said Marcus.

Anya nodded and tapped her radio. It only took a few minutes for her to explain the situation and then for Sam to locate the document that they needed – whoever had been in charge of the files in that room had been very efficient when it came to keeping everything in its right place.

"He's right," said Sam. "I've got a document here that says the contract for the engine controllers was given to Meddian Electronics in Bonbourg, Ostri. It's an official document and signed by Chairman Tomas Dalyell. Does this mean we can finally get Baird out of there?"

"Given that we know Daniel translated the radio message wrong…" started Anya.

"What?" asked Baird, a little angrily.

"He translated "makanismus" as mechanic, when actually that means mechanism," said Anya. "Apparently it's an easy mistake to make. Aurelie spotted it."

"Fantastic, I'm stuck here because Daniel Carmine can't speak Ostrian properly," said Baird.

Anya heard Sam chuckling on the other end of the com link. Apparently she could hear Baird's vociferous ranting even over the radio.

"That wouldn't have been enough to have you arrested," said Bernie, "it just gave Alex another reason to keep you here while she interrogated you."

"Unfortunately, we also need Alex's agreement before we let you out," said Anya. "But honestly, she hasn't got enough now to hold you, let alone charge you."

Baird let out a sigh of relief, and he wasn't the only one. "Great, I hate this fucking cell. Get her down here so that she can apologise and I can tell her to go screw herself."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "That would be stupid, and even you know that."

"Oh come on! Let me have a little revenge. She locked me up for something that she knew I didn't do!"

"Yeah, and Sam already took it out on her face in case you hadn't noticed," said Marcus.

"That's my girl," said Baird, with a smug smile.

"Yeah, well, "your girl" looks almost as bad, so we're calling that one a draw," replied Marcus. He tapped his radio. "Fenix to Operations, tell Sergeant Brand that we need to see her at the Archive Room immediately."

"That's my cue to go and sort this out." Anya looked over at Baird, fixing him with a commanding look. "You, sit tight until we get back."

"And mine to leave," said Prescott. "I'm glad that I could be of assistance in clearing your name, Sergeant Baird."

"Uh, yeah, that was, uh, useful," said Baird, clearly trying to avoid saying a proper thank you. "I'll just hang out here until you lot do all that difficult talking that you need to do. Do me a favour and don't let Sam anywhere near Alex again. I don't want my girlfriend accused of murder."

"Yeah, she'd have to get in line," ground out Marcus, before following Anya swiftly down the hall.


	22. Chapter 22

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Super long chapter this time to make up for the wait. Enjoy.

AN2: There is a scene in this chapter which I would rate as M, even though it's quite tame and purposefully vague, I've marked it and you can skip that section if you like.

* * *

Alex was angry, of course. Marcus knew that they'd just spoilt her nice neat plan to capture a spy and get revenge on Baird for Zeta squad's demise in one easy stroke. He wasn't at all sympathetic. She'd wanted evidence and she couldn't complain if it didn't support her rather convenient pet theory.

Cole and Sam had been ushered from the room mere minutes before Alex and Keller had arrived. Marcus was doing his best to keep them away from Alex, as Baird had requested. They were now waiting in Anya's office and had been given permission to drink more of the good whiskey while they waited. Marcus could see how frazzled the two of them were getting. This morning there had been little hope of springing Baird from his cell before Alex charged him and took him to Anvil Gate for trial, now it was just a matter of paperwork and negotiation. The change in fortunes was welcome, but abrupt.

"This is a fake," said Alex. "It has to be."

Anya had handed the purchase order to Alex, with Marcus observing the entire thing. He was ready to snatch it out of her hand if she tried to tear it up.

"You and the Damon Baird Fan Club fabricated this because the evidence was stacking up in a way you didn't like," said Alex.

"This is genuine document," said Anya. "It was here in the Archive Room all along, but until today we didn't know to look for it."

Alex passed the document to Keller. He looked it over.

"Sorry, Sergeant," said Keller. "It looks genuine to me, right down to Dalyell's signature."

The look on Alex's face would have dropped a drone stone cold dead in his tracks, if mere looks had that ability. Her anger was barely contained and she couldn't keep it out of her eyes. Marcus had no idea how she was going to handle this set back in her campaign against Baird and he wasn't sure that he liked what he saw right now.

"You all think you're so clever," said Alex, her voice had lost all emotion and was left with only poison and ire. "Screw it. Let the bastard out of his cage. I'll be back for him another time."

With that she turned on her heel and left the room. Keller, hands in his pockets, followed her with a shrug. Anya was shaking her head, and Marcus knew how she felt. Every single time he saw Alex do something like this it reminded him of what a change in her personality it was. She'd never gotten along with Baird, but she hadn't hated him either. Alex Brand had been a good soldier and a credit to the uniform, but Zeta squad's deaths were weighing her down. They needed to find a way to fix this before Alex did something else stupid.

"I'll call down to the Guardhouse and let Bernie know that Baird's a free man," said Anya.

Marcus nodded. "This isn't over. Alex meant it when she said that she'd be coming after him again."

"I know," replied Anya. "And we still don't know who sabotaged the Ravens or where from, only that they were probably Ostrian."

"Or how we fix them, but maybe Baird can shed some more light on it when he's out of jail," said Marcus. "After he's had time to get back on his feet."

Anya nodded. "If anyone can, then it would be Baird."

"I'll get Sam and Cole and meet Bernie down at the Guardhouse while you put in the call to get the ball rolling on his release." Marcus headed for the door.

Sam and Cole would be itching to get Baird out of jail and back to his quarters so that they could put in some serious mother-hen time. Marcus was kind of glad that he wasn't Baird right at this moment, they were going to smother him with concern. But he was also relieved that Baird had friends like Sam and Cole, he needed them right now. The mechanic had looked seriously wiped out and actually ill when he'd seen him in the cell.

Anya hit the button to activate her radio and began issuing orders to officially release Baird. She gave Marcus a wide smile of happiness that she was getting to do something good for once. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and headed off to complete his own errand.

Anya's office was only a floor away from the Archive Room, so Marcus decided to walk there and deliver the good news in person. It would give Anya slightly more time to affect Baird's release from his cell and therefore he'd probably be out by the time the rest of Delta got there.

Marcus entered the office to find Sam and Cole sat at one of the side tables, the good bottle of whiskey barely touched between them. Both heads snapped up as Marcus stepped into the room.

"What's the word, baby?" asked Cole. "Did the bitch back down?"

"She did," said Marcus.

A smile was spreading across Sam's face and Cole let out a strong laugh.

"I knew it! I knew she'd cave once she saw what we'd dug up," proclaimed Cole.

"Too right. I wish we could have been there when you gave her the news. I bet her expression was one for the album," said Sam.

Marcus allowed himself a small smile. "Yeah, she was pissed." His face fell as he remembered Alex's taunt. "But she said this wasn't the end."

"She would," said Sam, darkly.

"Yeah, baby, but we're Delta. We can take all comers. If she tries anything again then she'll have to go through us and the Cole Train doesn't take that shit from anyone." He gave Marcus a friendly slap on the back.

Sam shrugged. "Well, screw her. Let's go break Damon out of jail and get him home. I bet he's more than ready to get out of there."

Normally Marcus would have been right there with them, but Alex had already proven that she'd got tactics that their usual methods didn't work against. He just nodded and gave a grunt of agreement, hoping neither Cole nor Sam would pick up on his concern. Luckily both of them seemed more focused on getting Baird than his mood, so he got away with it.

* * *

There had been talk of taking Baird to the Medical Centre for a check-up, but he was having none of it. Yes, he felt like crap, yes, he'd had the most seizures in one day that he'd ever had, no, he did not need to see Hayman again. She'd discussed a new dosage of epilepsy meds with him and he would take them faithfully, as he always did, and everything would be fine again. Especially since his life was now considerably less stressful due to not having the threat of execution by firing squad hanging over his head. He really hoped that he wasn't deluding himself here.

Right now, he was going to actually follow the advice of his friends and go back to quarters, take a shower and go to bed. He didn't care that it was barely mid-afternoon. His body had had enough and it ached fiercely with the need for rest. He'd feel better tomorrow, and every day after that, as his muscles recovered and his bruises healed. He wanted to put this entire thing behind him.

Cole appeared at his cell door with a wheelchair.

"Really?" asked Baird. "You want me to get in that thing again?"

"You can't even stand and you want to walk back to your quarters," said Sam, looking down at him. "Give it up, Baird. The only way we're getting you out of here is in the wheelchair."

Sam had been acting a little weird. When he'd first seen her and she'd seen him, he caught her hiding an expression that he couldn't quite recognise under the smile that she'd then shown him. She'd planted a kiss on the top of his head in a very restrained way and then squeezed his arm with affection. He appreciated that she hadn't tried to hug him or kiss him senseless. He wasn't sure that he could take that right now, and especially not in front of Cole, Bernie and Marcus. They'd probably discuss the entire thing later and he could puzzle out her reaction then. Or they'd argue and work it out that way, it was fifty fifty in his opinion as to which way it might go.

Cole and Sam got Baird up. He was shaky on his feet and his limbs were being sluggish, a hangover from the seizures. He felt so small and weak next to Cole, and he felt a touch of embarrassment at how much help he needed. It was frustrating to have to use the wheelchair again, but right now he knew that Sam was right, he'd never have even made it to the door on his own.

He let out an exaggerated sigh of happiness as Cole pushed him down the corridor, out of the building and into the bright sunshine outside.

"I never thought I'd be so damn happy to see the sun," remarked Baird.

Marcus gave a harrumph of the kind that passed for laughter in the Fenix vocabulary. "You were only in there a day."

"Yes, and it sucked," said Baird. He was not going to elaborate on how he'd felt like the walls were too close and the boredom was mind numbing, or even on how scared he'd been when he realised what Sheba and Jefferies had planned – they didn't need to know any of that. He had no idea how Marcus had survived for years in the Slab.

"You're out now, baby, but Alex is one angry lady," said Cole.

"I'm not surprised," said Baird, with resignation. "She thought she'd got the perfect plan."

"Shame it was all a fabrication," said Bernie. "That girl has some strange ideas."

"It wasn't all fabrication," said Baird. "That's why it worked. Mostly it was misunderstandings and incomplete information. I'm still the only person in the COG who could have programmed those engine controllers, but no one knew that it had all happened years ago, back in the factory."

"Damn baby, you really did have a girlfriend back in college who was Ostrian?" asked Cole.

"Yes, but so what? And why the sudden interest in ancient history? None of you actually believed that I was a spy did you?" He searched the faces of his friends.

"Don't be an idiot," said Sam. Her expression was scornful at the mere idea.

"I should slap you for even asking the question," said Bernie.

"Do we need to say anymore?" asked Marcus, with a withering look.

Cole was just giving him an incredulous, possibly slight hurt, look. Of course he'd never even considered that Baird might be the spy, Cole just wasn't capable of such thoughts. It was one of the reasons why Baird worried about him so much. The guy didn't have a suspicious bone in his body. He'd run into a burning building to save a cat if someone asked him to, the soft idiot, and Baird had made it his mission in life to save Cole from himself, not that it was always entirely successful.

"Okay, okay," said Baird, holding his hands up in surrender. "You trust me, yadda, yadda, yadda. Great. Let's just leave it at that. I don't want to talk about Katia Masters or Meurig or whatever the hell she was really called. We still have a Raven fleet that can't fly and I'm the only one who can fix it."

"But not today," said Marcus.

"For once, I agree with you, but I am going to need to take some time to unpick the code and puzzle out how to cut it out without the entire program failing," said Baird.

"I'm sure you'll work it out," said Marcus.

"I am amazingly smart, witty and good looking," quipped Baird.

"It's not too late to put you back in your cell, you know," said Sam.

He twisted around to get a better look at Sam, who was smirking at his expense.

"Why are we dating again?" asked Baird.

"I need someone to do the maintenance on my bike," replied Sam. The smirk was back again.

"And I thought you only wanted me for my body," retorted Baird. "Chicks dig the Baird."

"They'd better not," said Sam.

"Okay, and I am out of here," said Cole. "You two definitely need some time alone."

Bernie and Marcus exchanged an amused look and nodded.

"We'll pick this conversation up again once you've had some rest," said Marcus, turning towards the Operations building. "Don't wear him out, Sam. He's going to have a lot of work to do."

Sam grinned and Baird blushed, despite himself. Cole apparently thought this was hilarious and laughed loudly as he followed Bernie and Marcus.

"I can't believe those people are my friends," said Baird. "Imagine what it would be like if they weren't."

"I prefer not to think about getting on Bernie's bad side," said Sam, taking the handles of Baird's wheelchair.

Baird would have protested this, but he was tired and being pushed actually seemed like the only way he was going to get home today. It was definitely faster this way and gave Sam less breath for returning insults to his cutting remarks. Although today he wasn't quite as witty and quick as was usual. Hayman's drugs were even now slowing him down and making it hard to concentrate consistently. They should be out of his system completely in a few hours, but then he'd probably take the maximum safe dosage of his usual painkillers and be out of it again. He hurt all over and desperately needed rest.

They reached his quarters and found them exactly as Baird had left them the day before when they pulled themselves out of bed to go to the Med Centre. The place was a mess. Sam had been doing her best to keep a check on Baird's rather chaotic tendencies to leave whatever he was working on upon any given flat surface in the small suite of rooms, but she was fighting a losing battle.

"Your workshop is so tidy. How come you can't keep this place just as clean?"

"It's a context thing," said Baird, tiredly. "That's work and this is play."

"Really? Because this looks a lot like work to me," said Sam, picking up a piece of an ATV's carburettor.

Baird rolled his eyes. "Okay, so the lines have been a bit blurred lately."

He pushed himself up out of the wheelchair carefully and despite his care, his legs nearly buckled beneath him. The brace around his bad leg dug into the back of his knee annoyingly, but did its job of providing support. Sam was there to catch him, but only because she hadn't yet moved from his side. She had his arm over her shoulder before he could properly collapse.

"Damn it," said Sam. "What were you thinking? You were beaten and had seven seizures. You're not walking anywhere without help."

Baird groaned. "And you're about to tell me that the only place I'm going either way is bed."

"Yes, smart arse," said Sam, edging the two of them to Baird's bed. "And you're going to rest. Which means no radio until tomorrow and no messing about with the contents of your bedside table. Brennan has everything under control at the workshop and will continue to be fine until you're back on your feet."

They reached the edge of the bed and Baird sat down heavily. His poor coordination had him rolling sideways with the momentum. Sam, her limbs tangled up with Baird's own, lost her footing and crashed down on top of him. Baird sucked in a breath at the impact, but did his best not to let Sam hear him. However that appeared to be unsuccessful.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" asked Sam.

"I'm fine," replied Baird.

"Liar," countered Sam, extricating herself more gently.

"Okay, but I hurt everywhere to begin with, so you didn't make it worse," seeing no point to hiding this fact from her. She was already well aware of how much pain he was in and of how his brain was refusing to play ball today. His movements were sluggish and he was taking just a little too long with his usual comebacks. Once upon a time, no one but Cole would even have noticed, now he had a whole four or five people who actually cared whether he lived or died and paid attention to this stuff.

His mind wandered and whilst it did, Sam finished getting herself disentangled and then found a glass of water so that he could take his painkillers. He downed them and lay back with a long breath. She pulled at the velcro straps of the leg-brace and gently removed the boot. He barely stirred, although he was pleased to be free from the plastic brace. Then Sam tugged at the buckle of his belt and his eyes flew open.

"Sam, I am definitely not up to that right now," said Baird, although he couldn't help the slight disappointment that crept into his tone.

"I know that, you idiot," replied Sam. "I'm just getting you undressed so that you'll be more comfortable when you fall asleep, which by my reckoning is going to be in about five minutes."

"Oh," replied Baird, feeling a little stupid. He blamed his scrambled brain. It definitely wasn't functioning on all cylinders right now.

Sam tugged off his shorts and then his t-shirt, leaving him in his boxers, splayed out on the bed like a turtle on its back. He felt almost as helpless as well. Post-seizure time always sucked, but it didn't usually last an entire day, normally by now he'd be a little sore but well past the rest of the aftereffects. But he'd never had such a thoroughly neurologically fucked up couple of days before though, so it was bound to be worse than he'd experienced in the past.

He really hoped that Alex didn't decide to come after him again with some new trumped up charges, because he didn't think he could cope with it today. He'd probably become the latest person to hit her if he even saw her smug face. However, that assumed he actually had the strength, and at the moment he wasn't feeling like he'd ever be able to move on his own again, even though he knew he just had to give it time. He desperately needed some sleep. His very bones had sunken into deep fatigue and his body felt unbelievably heavy.

"Hey, where did you go?" asked Sam, jerking him out of his thoughts. "Come on, I'll help you roll onto your front."

Baird frowned, feeling like he'd just missed a step in this conversation. "Why do I want to be on my front?"

She was already levering him over though and with a little help, he found himself face down in the luxurious pillows of the giant bed.

"So that I can do this," said Sam. She grabbed something from the bedside table and then moved so that she was straddling his hips.

"Sam? What are you doing? I really, really, just want to sleep," said Baird, his voice muffled by the pillow that he couldn't summon the energy to shove out of the way.

"I know. Just bear with me," said Sam. "This'll help, I promise."

He felt her hands on his back and she began to need at his taut, abused muscles. It was blissful. It was magical. It was everything that he'd missed about her in ways that he'd never even realised. Usually he was so wary of being touched, of having people invade his private space, but this was entirely different. Her hands were warm and she was using some kind of oil that had a slight, not unpleasant, scent to it. She massaged and rubbed, and his muscles responded by unknotting and relaxing. The seizures had locked them up and made them sore and aching, but Sam's fingers seemed to be releasing them and taking part of that pain away. He sighed in happiness.

"Fucking hell, Sam," he mumbled, only semi-coherently. "You're amazing."

"I know," smiled Sam, and he could hear the humour in her voice. "Go to sleep, Baird. I'll still be here when you wake up."

"Yeah, but I don't want you to stop," he said, his tone just a little more whiny than he'd hoped it would be.

She gave him a chuckle, light and happy. "I can give you another massage another night."

Baird's eyes were closed now. "Yeah. I keep forgetting that you're not just here for the night."

Sleep was dragging on his mind, and he felt like he could transition easily into unconsciousness now.

"I'm here to stay, Damon," said Sam. The tone of that felt out of step with her light banter, but Baird wasn't up to processing why she sounded so serious now.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"What for?" asked Sam.

He meant to answer, but his brain was already half into dreamland. He wanted to apologise for everything that he'd put her through these last couple of days. Instead, he let sleep envelop him and he drowned in its beautiful, restoring, oblivion for many hours.

* * *

Waking up was nowhere near as pleasant as falling asleep had been. The space in the bed beside him was cold and empty. Sam must have been up a while, or not gone to bed with him. He had no idea how long he'd slept but he was certain that it was now the next day. He was still stiff but the lack of coordination had all but disappeared. His mind felt clearer too and he didn't immediately feel the need to reach for his painkillers.

He carefully pushed himself into a sitting position and noticed that his leg brace was propped up beside the bed. He considered reaching for it, but was intelligent enough to realise that would probably result in dizziness and then falling over. His crutches were also leaning against the wall a couple of steps from the bed, so he could easily make it out of bed on his good leg, grab them and hop to the shower. He'd worry about putting the brace on afterwards.

He got himself upright and managed it without too much dizziness. His limbs were generally cooperating today which he was calling a win. Even the hopping to the shower and back was fine and he'd got himself dry and into new underwear before Sam made an appearance with some clean clothes.

"Hey," she smiled. "You're looking better."

Baird smiled back. "I feel better."

Sam dropped the clothes on the end of the bed and, for the first time, Baird noticed that she had some of her own clothes mixed in with his. She must have done their laundry together. He frowned at the idea of such domesticity creeping into his life. Cole had been taking his laundry down to the basement machines for him while he was having trouble getting about.

"What's the frown for then?" asked Sam, perceptive as ever.

"Nothing," said Baird. He was not giving Sam an insight into his insecurities about something as stupid as them doing their washing together.

"Why did you say you were sorry last night?" asked Sam.

His frown deepened. "I don't remember. When did I say I was sorry?"

"Just as you were falling asleep."

He shook his head. She was approaching him and he wasn't sure he wanted to talk about anything this serious with her right now. His instinct here was to mutter something sharp that would make her back off, but he was finding it harder and harder to do that to Sam.

She sat down on the bed beside him. "What are you thinking in that brain of yours?"

"The usual stuff. How I'm going to fix the Raven problem and get them running at higher fuel efficiency at the same time. How I'm going to reorganise the workshop once I'm properly fit. How I'm going to improve Jack's cloaking ability. How I might have a way that Aurelie can synthesise the chemicals she needs to make drugs. How hot the woman sitting beside me is." If he was lucky that would distract her and she wouldn't probe further.

"You're a spectacularly bad liar," said Sam.

"I didn't lie about the last bit," smiled Baird, and he reached a hand around Sam's waist. He turned and kissed her.

[**M** rated starts here]

She let him, and then letting him became fully fledged reciprocation. She pushed him back on the bed. His hands wandered under her t-shirt and up her back to the clasp of her bra. They hovered there and stopped. Sam seemed not to notice for a moment, but the slightly less enthusiastic kissing made her pause.

"What's the matter?" she asked. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm feeling fine," said Baird and looked away from her eyes for a moment as he collected his thoughts. "You're sure you want this?"

"Hey, I'm the one on top. You know I'm fine with it, hell, I've been waiting for it. Or maybe you missed me checking out your butt the other day?"

Baird looked back at Sam and realised that she was smirking, with a wicked sparkle in her eyes. He let out a somewhat relieved laugh.

"What's really bothering you?" asked Sam. She hadn't let up on her cat-like stance, with her hands pressed into his shoulders, holding him down with her weight and a knee on either side of his stomach.

Baird blushed. "Uh, it's been a while, I'm not exactly at full strength, and… what if I have a seizure… you know? Mid… this…"

"You took your pills this morning, right?" asked Sam.

Baird nodded.

"Then it'll be fine, and if it isn't we'll stop and wait it out."

"Sam, what if I can't? I mean what if…" He couldn't make himself finish the sentence.

"It's a trigger for your seizures?" asked Sam.

Again he nodded. His eyes now met hers, searching them for any sign as to what her reaction to this would be.

"This relationship isn't just about sex, Damon," chided Sam. "Besides we know we can have a lot of fun without there being any problems, so let's just relax and take it slow."

She moved her hips slightly, repositioning herself so that she was sitting lower across his body. She rubbed across his crotch in just the right place. Baird felt something stirring and a heat beginning to build inside him. He reached up and pulled Sam's lips down to meet his own. Relaxing he could manage but he wasn't entirely sure about the taking it slow.

They stopped for long enough to pull off t-shirts and underwear, and after that they were both lost to the rhythm of their bodies moving together. Baird couldn't have stopped, even if he'd wanted to. Sam's curves, lit by the morning sunlight that streamed through the window, were beautiful. Soft but firm, and the heat she radiated drew him into her until the two of them were one. They seemed to know exactly how to shift to give one another exactly what the other needed. The room was filled with their pleased noises of enthusiastic love making.

She stayed on top, riding him until they both shuddered with pleasure, spent. Finally, she rolled to his side and they lay panting, and clinging to each other. They were both damp with sweat and they pulled the sheets over them to keep them warm while they got their breathing back under control.

Baird placed a kiss on Sam's forehead. "First experiments would indicate that sex isn't a trigger for my epilepsy."

She smiled up at him. "You're saying that we need more data to be sure?"

"Definitely. An experiment has to be repeatable before you can be sure of the result. That's the scientific method," he said as seriously as he could manage. It was hard to keep a straight face though, because he could already feel Sam's hands moving downwards. He began his own renewed explorations. Apparently they weren't going to be going to work this morning. He was fine with that.

[**M** rated ends here]

* * *

It was late afternoon when Marcus got a message from Baird that he was heading to the workshop to start disentangling the code in the Raven engine controllers. He noted that Sam hadn't reported for duty that morning either, although that didn't surprise him. No one had really expected them to be at work at all today. Hayman had made it clear that Baird would need some more time to recover from the seizures he'd suffered whilst in the guardhouse, and since he was still on seizure-watch for a few more hours, Sam was the obvious person to keep an eye on him.

Marcus made it to the workshop several hours later, by which time Baird was well and truly engrossed in the lines of code and barely looked up when Marcus entered his office. He had his goggles down over his eyes and he was working on the tablet computer that Brennan had restored for him.

"I thought you'd be taking the day off," said Marcus.

"Not when we've got choppers grounded, and I can get them back in the air," said Baird.

"And Sam let you come down here on your own?" asked Marcus.

Baird rolled his eyes. "No, she drove me down here herself and then made Brennan promise to keep an eye on me until she came back to collect me. It was fucking embarrassing and we will be having words about it later. Apparently she hasn't noticed that I can look after myself, and before you say anything, because I know you're dying to remind me that I'm still on seizure-watch, I'm following all of Hayman's instructions to the letter. I slept pretty well last night and I stayed in bed all morning."

Marcus just leaned against the doorpost and raised an eyebrow. "Is it a coincidence that Sam was grinning when I saw her at lunch?"

"Don't give me that look, Marcus. I hadn't seen her properly for two days," said Baird, with mild annoyance. "Do I comment when you and Anya turn up late for a meeting looking like you'd fail a basic uniform inspection?"

Marcus chuckled and changed the subject. "When can you get the Ravens back in the air?"

"Well, KR Eight-Zero could probably be ready to fly tomorrow, assuming I finish rewriting this code tonight," said Baird. "Five-Three needs putting back together and that isn't a quick job. We've probably got enough parts to do it, but it's not going to be easy. There was a lot of damage and we were just lucky it went down in shallow water. The rest, well, they're all going to need their engine control module code replacing and there's no easy way to do that. We don't have the equipment to do a single code reissue. The mechanics at Anvil Gate are going to have to hand hack every single one of them, and I'll need to send them the details of how to do that. They don't have much experience of rewriting code."

Marcus nodded. "So probably at least a week?"

"For the ones that were fine otherwise. It'll be more like a month before we get Five-Three back in the air," said Baird.

Marcus shook his head. "Damn it. We need our Ravens back."

"I know, I know," said Baird. He stopped working for a second and turned to look at Marcus, pushing his goggles up onto his forehead. "You know what would make things go faster? If I was to go to Anvil Gate and help out. I could train the mechanics in person and then they'd be better equipped to handle errors in the software if there are more problems."

"No," said Marcus, without really needing to think about it.

"Huh?" asked Baird, clearly baffled by this response. "Why the hell not?"

"You're not well enough."

He knew immediately that he'd said the wrong thing. The look that Baird gave him was dark.

"If I didn't have epilepsy then you'd be fine with me going," said Baird. "You're the one who persuaded me not to take the medical discharge. If I can't do what needs to be done then what's the point?"

"The Ostrians are still out there, and this isn't a walk in the park. You're not completely fit and you're not allowed to carry a gun," replied Marcus.

"I won't need to, because you'll be with me," said Baird. "There isn't anyone else who can do this. I have to go."

"You just said that you could send them instructions," said Marcus.

"Which they'll probably screw up, and if they do then it's not a mistake which can easily be fixed," said Baird. "This is delicate equipment."

"The answer is still "no"," said Marcus, again, with slightly more force this time.

Sam arrived back at the workshop at that moment, wandered through the half-fixed ATVs and water heaters, and caught the tail end of the conversation.

"What's he done now?" asked Sam.

"Nothing," said Baird, in an aggrieved tone. "In fact, that's the problem." He threw his hands up in the air in classic Baird dramatics, and turned back to the tablet crossly.

"He wants to go to Anvil Gate to do the reprogramming of the Raven engine control modules," said Marcus.

"I know you don't want to hear it, but Marcus is right," said Sam, stepping into Baird's office. "Until you're properly mobile and physically fit you should stay on Azura."

"Oh, come on, I'm not an invalid. My leg's pretty much better and my fitness is almost back to where it should be," said Baird.

"Almost being the operative word," replied Marcus.

"But you're not allowed to carry a gun. What are you going to do? Talk the enemy to death with harsh words? Wait a minute, you actually could," chipped in Sam.

"Ha ha, that is just hilarious," said Baird, giving Sam an annoyed look. He apparently recognised his own words thrown back at him when he heard them. "Look, it's just a short helicopter ride to Kashkur. Or it will be once I fix KR Eight-zero."

"With the Ostrians and Stranded probably trying to kill us," said Marcus.

"But you need me to do this," said Baird. "Come on, guys. You know you can't keep wrapping me in cotton wool. I'm a Gear. You've got to let me be a Gear and do stuff like this. You can send a squad with me and we'll be fine."

"Like hell," said Sam. "If you're going then I'm going with you."

"No one is going," growled Marcus.

"Look, you have to stop treating me like I'm some fragile thing. This is getting dull even for you, Marcus," said Baird. "Before I fell off a roof you'd have had no problem sending me off to Anvil Gate for a few days."

"Yes, because you were on active combat duty. You're now strictly non-combat and Hayman will have my hide if I let you anywhere near anything stressful," said Marcus, with exasperation. "Sheba and Jefferies knocked you about a bit and you spent the night having multiple seizures. That shit isn't good for you and I shouldn't have to be the one telling you that."

"I know that, Marcus," said Baird. "But I'm damned if I'm just going to sit around on my ass because I happen to have a medical condition. I'm done with the feeling sorry for myself portion of this thing and I'm going to get on with being the asshole genius that you all know and love."

"How will we tell the difference?" asked Sam, with a smirk.

"Shut up, Byrne," replied Baird. "Not helping."

"I think Marcus is right," said Sam. "You're not ready for field trips yet."

"Fucking hell," said Baird, angrily. "You're all over-protective morons. I can't live like this. Don't you get that?"

Marcus sighed. He exchanged a look with Sam. He did understand where Baird was coming from and it was good to see him angry about this. At one point Marcus had been worried that Baird had just given up hope, especially when he'd been willing to accept a medical discharge and transfer to Anvil Gate. But Baird was right, he had to let him live his life and have as much of a normal existence as he could. He couldn't protect him from everything and the world was a lot safer than it had been during the Locust war.

"Yes, we get that. Okay, you can have your trip to Anvil Gate, but just give it another few days, okay? Then you'll have had some recovery time from the seizures, and Delta will accompany you."

Baird rolled his eyes. "Really? Oh well, I guess we can call it our come back tour. It'll be just awesome."

"It's better than nothing, Damon," said Sam. "I'd stop complaining if I was you and thank the Lieutenant graciously."

"I thought I just did," replied Baird. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I came to collect you for dinner, and to tell you that you've done enough work for one day," said Sam.

Baird sighed, looking a little fed up. "You're not going to give me a choice are you?"

Sam shook her head with a smile. "We both know that you're dog tired, and neither of us really want to argue about this. Tomorrow you can deal with KR Eight-zero and then we can work out going to Anvil Gate."

"Why do you always manage to make everything sound so reasonable?" asked Baird, with defeat.

"Because I'm reasonable, and you're an asshole. It's pretty simple really," replied Sam.

"Hey, I always thought it was the other way around," said Baird.

"And that delusion is why you need me to keep you right."

"But you're okay with me going to Anvil Gate?"

"Yeah, as long as I can come too," said Sam.

Sam planted a kiss on Baird's forehead. Marcus groaned.

"Sorry, I'd forgotten that Delta doesn't do PDAs," said Sam. She handed Baird his walking stick as Marcus huffed with annoyance.

"We're not going anywhere for at least two days, Baird," said Marcus. "I don't want to hear anymore whining."

"Yes, sir, Lieutenant Fenix," said Baird. "I still can't believe that they promoted you over me. I mean, it makes no sense. Although, sleeping with the boss might have had something to do with it this time around, I guess."

Sam shoved Baird out of the room before he could get himself into further trouble. Marcus knew when he was being baited and he didn't feel like playing today, not when Baird was still clearly sore and weak from the epileptic fits. The way Baird held himself spoke of aching muscles and Marcus was well aware that his friend used verbal distraction as a way of deflecting attention away from something that he didn't want noticed. Baird was good at pretending that he wasn't hurting and he still didn't like anyone knowing that he wasn't fit.

Marcus went to find Anya so that he could clear the trip to Anvil Gate with her. He'd also make sure that he took the strike force attack plan to Baird to look over tomorrow. Once they got the helicopters flying again, the Ostrians were going to pay for everything that they'd done to his friends and fellow Gears.

* * *

Sam could see that Baird was nervous. Kitting up that morning to get on the boat to Anvil Gate had been a little stressful. Hayman had said that it was okay for him to take off the leg brace and he seemed comfortable walking without it or using the stick. The main issue had been around Baird's lancer. Because of his epilepsy, Baird was not allowed to carry a gun, so there was no point in taking his lancer, but he'd picked it up and had been completely serious about bringing it along.

He had cleaned it and maintained it over the last two months, even though he knew he was never going to be allowed to fire it again. At first Sam had put this down to force of habit. It was such ingrained behaviour that it was comforting to continue, but then she began to suspect that it wasn't simply habit. It was because he just couldn't let go of everything that went with being a Gear and his lancer was his pride and joy.

"I'm taking it," said Baird.

"If Marcus sees it then he'll probably confiscate it," said Sam. "You know that you're not allowed to carry a gun."

"It's for emergencies."

"If there's an emergency then you'll keep your bloody head down and let the rest of us do the shooting."

Baird didn't look at all impressed by that. Sam had to nip this in the bud before it got out of hand. This was the first time that Baird had been on any kind of mission since the accident and it was bound to bring up all sorts of feelings for him. Baird didn't usually deal well with feelings, and she'd already seen his reaction to not being included in the planning for the strike force mission to Ostria. He had a huge adjustment to make, and it was going to be hard.

"Look, the only reason Marcus is letting you go is because you promised you'd follow orders and behave. If you go back on that before you've even put a foot out the door then he's going to ground you and you won't get to play with your toys," said Sam, trying to sound as sympathetic as she could.

She gently removed the lancer from his grasp, and he let her do it without protest although he clearly wasn't happy about it. She placed it back in the drawer where it usually lived.

"Marcus is an ass," said Baird.

Sam just gave him a roll of her eyes. "Marcus is looking out for you."

"He just likes being in charge and bossing people about. It's why he and Anya were clearly meant for each other. They both get off on telling people what to do."

Sam saw Baird reach for his Boltok pistol that was in the drawer beside the lancer.

"Don't even think about it," said Sam.

Baird huffed in annoyance, and moved away from the guns.

"Can I put my plates on? Is that okay? Or do I have to go out looking like a civilian?" asked Baird, crossly grabbing his armour from where it was laid out on the bed.

"Stop being such an asshole," retorted Sam.

"There you go, trying to turn me into a human being again. You know it's a losing battle."

Baird shrugged on the armour, pulling the straps tight. It didn't fit quite as snuggly as it once had. Her boyfriend had definitely lost weight since he'd last put it on. She was well aware that, despite what Baird wanted everyone to believe, he wasn't back to his pre-accident levels of fitness. He still got dizzy spells when he moved too quickly and he still tired more quickly than he should. Baird continued to hold out hope that both of those things would get better over time, but she wasn't so sure. She surveyed him critically, and Baird noticed her doing it.

"What now?"

Sam shook her head, thinking about the months at the end of the war when Delta had seemed indestructible. Then Dom had died and suddenly no one had been certain that they'd see another day. Against the odds, they'd made it, but she knew that none of them were invulnerable. She'd nearly lost Baird just at the point that she'd started to see him differently. She dismissed the sudden image in her head of Baird in the hospital with a broken arm and leg, and a hole in his head. That wasn't going to help today.

"I just haven't seen you in armour for a while. It brings back a few memories."

Baird gave her a twisted smirk. "Yeah, all those happy times we spent blowing the heads of Lambent grubs. Those were the days."

"I didn't say that they were good memories. Come on, we're going to miss the damn boat if we don't get moving," said Sam.

"Yes, ma'am," said Baird, with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. "This just feels all wrong – armour and no weapons. And we're going to have to put up with Cole puking his guts up the entire trip."

"The sooner we leave, the sooner we get there," said Sam, and practically dragged Baird out of his quarters.

Originally they'd planned to fly to Anvil Gate, but a medical emergency had seen the newly repaired KR Eight-zero despatched to Gorasnaya that morning with Hayman on board. No one knew when they'd be back because that depended on the severity of the injury and whether Hayman was going to airlift the patient to the Medical Centre at Azura or treat them there. KR Eight-zero was currently their sole working helicopter, so a boat to Kashkur was their only other option.

Sam wouldn't have minded the change in transportation except it took longer and Brand and Keller would be going back with them on the same boat. They wouldn't have all fitted into the Raven but as went her typically bad luck, now they were going by boat it was seen as a waste of resources for it not to take all the passengers that it could. Ironically, she could probably have stood Alex's presence for a short flight on a Raven, but the boat would take all day and Sam wasn't convinced she wouldn't end up hitting Alex again. At least on the boat they could probably sit at opposite ends and ignore each other.

Even with Baird's bad humour, they made it down to the docks in good time and could see the others waiting for them there. Supplies were being loaded onto the boat, which had the auspicious name Fair Weather, along with their personal effects. Baird had a few tools and other essentials in a kit bag, but he did look a little lost without the comfort of his lancer in his arms. Her own gun was holstered on her back, and easily grabbed if needed. She felt a little sorry for him, but there wasn't anything that she could do this time. The potential for an accident was just too high.

"Ready?" asked Marcus.

"As I'll ever be," replied Baird.

"You've got your meds?" asked Cole.

"Yes, Mom," said Baird, with annoyance. "Would everyone please stop treating me like I don't have a brain? It's slightly damaged, not missing. I am not stupid and I didn't forget everything that I learned over the last twenty years just because I had a few seizures. We're only going to Anvil Gate and I've got all of you to act as my fucking protectors."

Baird pushed past the other Gears, stomped across the gang plank and onto the boat.

"He's in a good mood," observed Cole.

"I made him leave his lancer behind," said Sam. "He's a little annoyed about the no guns rule."

"It's not new. He hasn't been able to carry a gun since the accident," said Marcus.

"Yeah, but Azura's mostly safe. None of us really carry guns unless we're on patrol now," pointed out Sam. "It's different to going on a mission without any weapons."

"Yeah, but he's going to have to get used to it some time," said Cole. "I know that none of us want to think too hard about it, but his epilepsy ain't going to get any better and there's a good reason why he can't carry."

Marcus still seemed to be watching Baird, who was now leaning against one of the railings along the opposite side of the boat. He fingered his own lancer, held close to his body, ready for action.

"The first things we were issued with when we joined up were our lancers. Gears aren't Gears without our guns. This isn't just about being able to protect himself. This is about what it means to be a Gear."

Sam's forehead creased in contemplation. Sometimes Marcus really surprised her with his level of insight into a situation. He'd summed up exactly what was wrong with Baird this morning. He had to be feeling like he wasn't one of them anymore. When you were part of a squad, you pulled your weight and everyone had their role to play. The question no one had asked was exactly what was Baird's role in Delta now? How did he contribute if it came to a firefight? Yes, he was still their resident genius and problem solver, but that wasn't always what was needed and Baird had always been able to grab a rifle and shoot grubs with the best of them if required.

Sam was already aware that the answer was that the world was different now. People with Baird's skill set were probably of more use than people who could shoot. And not carrying a gun didn't make him any less a part of the squad, which he already knew after Marcus's "we are family" speech. However, words didn't always penetrate Baird's thick skull, and sometimes he just needed time to let the full implications of those words sink in and work stuff out for himself. She'd seen it happen often enough. It was like he'd decided that some stuff just didn't count because it was his friends telling him those things. Perhaps he thought they felt obligated to say such things.

Sometimes they all forgot that Baird had very little experience of friendship and what it meant. Sometimes they forgot that Hayman had diagnosed him with clinical depression before his accident and that illnesses like that didn't just disappear overnight. And sometimes they forgot that Baird's life had changed very abruptly one sunny day when he'd climbed a building and fallen off a roof. There were bound to be times when he just needed space to process everything new.

The rest of Delta traipsed on board the boat and Cole headed over to stand beside Baird, bumping him with his shoulder. Baird gave his friend an annoyed look and she heard Cole start talking about how he hoped the sea was going to be calm. Baird offered to hold his hair for him if he had to throw up and that was all that was needed to resume their usual banter. Sam allowed herself a little smile. That was their version of an apology and acceptance. It probably wasn't healthy, but it appeared to work for them. She wished it was as easy for her to penetrate his bad moods, but he did seem to let her in more easily now.

Alex and Keller arriving a few minutes later instantly dispersed any good mood that might have been building. No one felt like chatting to them. Marcus gave them a curt nod in greeting and everyone kept their distance. The boat cast off for the Kashkur coast and eventually, Anvil Gate. It had been a while since Sam had been home and she struggled with her emotions on that subject briefly. If she was honest then Anvegad hadn't been home for many years, but she didn't mourn that transition. She was a Gear and as long as she had her squad around her then she would have some measure of happiness wherever she was.

Sam leant on the prow of the boat and looked forwards to their destination.

* * *

Cole was not good on boats. Everyone knew this and yet he kept ending up on boats. Admittedly he had got a bit more used to them after a year on the CNV Sovereign, but that was a big boat with stabilisers for a smoother ride. This was a much smaller boat, a trawler, and hit every wave hard, bouncing over them with abandon and no regard for Cole's stomach. Baird's amused retort about holding his non-existent hair while he puked his guts up was on the point of coming true after they'd been at sea for only a couple of hours.

He and Baird had been standing looking out across the horizon on the starboard side, which mean on the right in normal language. He'd originally come over to see Baird and attempt to cheer him up a little, but instead Baird was now keeping him company whilst he felt like shit. Looking out to the horizon was supposed to help, but so far it really wasn't.

"Well at least you can fly back to Azura," said Baird. "Once I've fixed all the Ravens, then we'll be back to normal."

"Did you really need to come in person, or was this all just about proving to us that you're not an invalid?" asked Cole. It was a moot point at this stage, they weren't going to turn around and go home after being at sea for two hours. "I just want to know how much of my misery is down to your stubbornness."

Baird shook his head. "Okay, I guess they could have done it without me, but believe me when I say that this way will work a lot better and be a lot quicker."

"You doing okay without the leg brace?" asked Cole.

Baird gave his leg a flex. "Yeah, it's all good. No pain and I can move fine. I have to admit that Hayman's torture device worked."

Cole nodded. "Yeah, she knows what she's doing."

"I wish my brain was fixed as easily," said Baird, a little more quietly.

Cole put a hand on his friend's should. "It's not that bad. You haven't had a seizure for four days and life's pretty normal when they're under control."

Baird sighed. "There's something screwed up when I have to measure my life in periods of time without a seizure."

"It's still better than measuring our life in periods of time without a firefight," replied Cole.

"Yeah, because there weren't any," said Baird. Baird's eyes drifted upwards and Cole realised that he could hear the sound of rotor blades coming closer. "Is that Eight-zero?"

"It can't be. Eight-zero's still in Gorasnaya. It couldn't have made it to here by now."

"Then why is there a helicopter up there? All the others are still grounded." Baird turned around. "Marcus! We've got a chopper incoming!"

Marcus had been sat near the stern, cleaning his rifle while tacitly keeping an eye on Keller and Brand. He got to his feet and jogged over just as Sam shouted out from the front of the boat.

"That's not all," called Sam, coming back towards them. "We've got boats. Two of them."

The Gears exchanged concerned looks and Marcus hit his radio, broadcasting on the open channel. "Incoming helicopter, this is CNV Fair Weather. Please identify yourself."

There was no reply, but then no one had really expected one.

"Great, we're totally fucked," said Baird. "Hey, guys, it's just like old times."

Marcus just fixed Baird with a steely look. "Go and radio Azura. Give them our position and inform them about what's going on. Get the Captain to turn us around and put us heading back towards Azura. Then I want you to get the crew into cover."

"You're kidding me," said Baird. "Give me a gun, Fenix."

"No," said Marcus. "Stress is a trigger and I don't want you accidentally shooting someone. We are not having this conversation now. Move it, Sergeant."

Baird rolled his eyes, but ran off towards the wheelhouse.

"You sure about that?" asked Sam, once Baird was well and truly out of earshot. "We could do with the extra gun."

"I want him out of the way," said Marcus.

Cole nodded. He knew exactly where Marcus was coming from. This was about to be a fight for their lives and they were going to be outnumbered. They couldn't let Baird be hurt. None of them could take that, least of all Baird. He was finally well and they didn't want him to be injured now. They needed him somewhere out of the way so that they could concentrate on the task at hand.

Alex came over, Keller a couple of steps behind her. Both of them were readying their guns. Alex had her lancer loaded and primed, whereas Keller was carrying a shotgun that looked to be very well maintained.

"I'm guessing they're the Ostrians. No one else would have a helicopter. What are your orders, Lieutenant?" asked Alex, stubbing out her cigar on the edge of the boat's railing.

"I need you paired up and ready to repel boarders," said Marcus. "Sam, Cole, you take the left. Alex, Keller, you've got the right."

"What about you, Marcus?" asked Cole.

"Someone's got to take down that helo," said Marcus. "I'll wait until it gets close enough and then do my best to hit the rotors."

"That's going to be one hell of a shot," said Cole.

Marcus didn't reply to that. He just unslung the Longshot from his back. "It'll be fine. Get to your posts."

Cole gave his squad leader a nod and then dashed for the front of the boat with Sam on his heels. He looked back briefly to see Marcus getting himself into cover beside the wheelhouse. He didn't have time to pay much attention to that though because the two boats were opening fire on them without so much as a shout of "friend or foe". He opened fire in retaliation, keeping down behind the edge of the boat's prow. Sam was just beside him and also keenly attacking their enemy.

He saw a couple of Ostrians go down to their fire before the two boats swung off and began to approach from the side. Meanwhile the helicopter was coming in low overhead for a strafing run and there really wasn't much cover to be had when it came to an attack from overhead. Cole shoved himself as far under the lip of the prow as he could manage as bullets peppered the deck. Sam was doing the same, and jumped back as splinters flew up from the deck catching her on the right forearm. She didn't even seem to have noticed because she was aiming at the boat coming towards them again.

The Captain of the Fair Weather was turning them back towards Azura, but this wasn't the most manoeuvrable of craft and it would take a few minutes for him to complete the circle. Luckily the other boats chasing them were just as poor when it came to following.

Cole heard the distinctive retort of the Longshot firing. Marcus was drawing a bead on the helicopter above them, but the first shot had pinged harmlessly off the armour plating. Reloading the Longshot took a couple of seconds, but they were long seconds in combat, and by the time he was ready to take his second shot the aircraft had changed its orientation. Marcus needed to get himself into a better position now before he could get another shot at the rotor blade assembly.

Bullets flew everywhere. Cole could feel his heartbeat speeding up as the surge of adrenaline made its way through his body. He shifted along the side, away from the prow, and let rip another salvo of fire at the approaching boat on the left of the Fair Weather. On the other side Alex and Keller were firing on their own target, although Alex seemed to be having much better luck than Keller. Perhaps the guy just didn't have much experience, but he wasn't a great shot even with the shotgun.

The two boats were so close now that they only had moments before they were boarded. Then Cole noticed several of the Ostrians were readying grenades.

"Shit, incoming frag!"

Cole had just enough time to throw himself behind some crates of supplies before the grenades tumbled onto the deck a few feet away from him. Sam threw herself in the opposite direction, but not quite fast enough. She was caught in the explosion from the first grenade and Cole saw her head connect hard with the metal of the wall of the wheelhouse, but didn't see what happened to her after that. The second grenade going off was enough to daze him sufficiently that he knew he'd lost some valuable seconds in his own fight to remain conscious. By the time he'd got his wits about him, the Ostrians were boarding the boat and hunkering down behind their own cover.

Suddenly Baird was there and grabbed Sam, pulling her to her feet and away from the Ostrians. She was out of it but not completely unconscious. He dragged her into better cover with Cole and then went back to get something, dodging bullets as he did so. He landed beside Cole, shoving him over to make room. Sam was already coming back to her senses, shaking off her daze.

"Get back inside," spat Cole. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

It was then that Cole realised what Baird was carrying. It appeared to be a crate of bottles with rags shoved into their tops.

"Oh I don't know. I thought maybe you could do with some new ordnance," said Baird. "It turns out that Dizzy was sending a batch of his moonshine over to Anvil Gate. I have never been more happy in my life to remember that it has very similar properties to turpentine. I added a little something to it from the cleaning supplies that I found and this should definitely go boom in a very satisfying way."

"You made fire bombs out of moonshine and dish soap?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, sort of. You can thank me later," said Baird, unloading six of the bottles and pulling out a lighter which he handed to Cole. "Just make sure you aim well. We don't want this stuff on our own ship."

"Marcus's position is about to be overrun," said Baird. "Someone needs to back him up."

"I'll go," shouted Sam, above the noise.

"Here, take a couple of these and be careful," said Baird, handing Sam two more of the bottles. She took off towards where they'd last seen Marcus.

Baird picked up the half-full crate and scuttled away towards where Alex was hunkered down. He saw him hand her a couple of the fire bombs and exchange a few brief words. Cole would have loved to have been able to hear that conversation, but he had better things to do. He lit the first bottle and lobbed it towards the Ostrian boat just as the helicopter made another pass. He got down before he could be hit but it was close. On the positive side, the bottle smashed onto the Ostrian ship's hull and set it alight with some ferocity. Smoke billowed blackly up and out, sending their attackers in paroxysms of coughing. Cole pulled his bandana down over his own nose and mouth, and wished that he had a pair of goggles like Baird's as he lobbed a second bottle after the first.

He had to pick up his gun again rather than throw another bottle because the enemy were getting too close for comfort. He fell back, taking two of the bottles with him, ducking into the wheelhouse to provide himself with a little more cover. He was somewhat shocked to find several dead crewmembers and Keller standing over them with a gun. Immediately Keller trained his gun on Cole and Cole levelled his lancer at Keller.

"You're one of them? You're working for the Ostrians?" asked Cole with incredulity.

"Very astute," said Keller.

They could hear more gunfire outside, and then Baird was slamming through the door as the helicopter made another pass. The mechanic landed on the floor and Keller suddenly had a new target.

"Oh shit," said Baird, as he looked up at Keller.

"Just the man I wanted to see," said Keller. "Lower your rifle, Sergeant Cole, or I shoot Baird."

"If you shoot Baird, motherfucker, then my next bullet is going in your head," replied Cole.

"But your best friend will be dead, so I doubt that will be of much comfort to you," said Keller.

For a moment they stood looking at each other. Then Cole wavered.

"Cole, don't you fucking dare," said Baird.

"I've got no choice," said Cole, all joviality gone from his tone.

"Put your gun on the floor and get your hands up," said Keller.

Cole did as he was asked. He couldn't see any other option.

"Good, now help Baird to his feet and shut down the engine," said Keller.

Again Cole saw no option but to do as Keller asked. He pulled Baird up from the ground, noting the slight limp that his friend was doing his best to hide and then went to the boat's controls and shut down the engine.

"Now what?" asked Baird. "Did they come to collect you? Is that what this is all about?"

Keller smirked in a very disparaging fashion. "Actually this is all about you, Sergeant Baird. I've been looking for a way to get you off the island for a while now. Originally I thought Brand's vendetta would see you extradited to Anvil Gate and I could have made my move then, but this works just as well."

"Me?" asked Baird. "What the fuck would you want with a brain damaged mechanic?"

"That is quite a story and this is definitely not the place to tell it," said Keller. He hit his radio. "I'm in the wheelhouse. I've secured our objective. I'm bringing him out on the port side. Try not to shoot us or Ivo will have all our hides."

Cole kicked himself. He'd been played. Keller wasn't going to shoot Baird, because Baird was the reason that the Ostrians were here.

"We're going to take a little walk. After you," said Keller, and indicated that they should walk in front of him.

Cole exchanged a look with Baird. It was enough that he knew that they were both thinking the same thing. It would be better to be dead here than on a boat to Ostri. They walked out of the wheelhouse and onto the deck. It was difficult to see anything with clouds of black smoke wafting around but they could make out one of the Ostrian boats off to the port side. This one wasn't on fire by the looks of it. The gunfire was actually slightly less now than it had been a few minutes ago and seemed to be concentrated on the other side of the boat.

"Hold it right there, princess," said a familiar voice from behind them. "If you want to explain what you're doing, Mr Keller, then I might be charitable enough to not blow your brains out."

Cole turned just enough that he could see Alex standing with a Boltok pistol pointed at Keller's head.

"I caught them sabotaging the boat," said Keller.

"Now, I can believe that of Baird," said Alex, "but Cole's as straight as they come. Try again."

"Just shoot the bastard, Brand," said Baird, "he's the traitor." Cole could hear the stress and anger in his voice.

Keller didn't wait for the situation to develop any further he spun around and took a shot at Alex. It hit her full in the chest, which was enough to knock her back but her armour saved her life. Cole moved to help but at that second Marcus made his shot to the helicopter's rotor blades. Suddenly there was two tonnes of helicopter falling towards them and all Cole could do was grab Baird and propel him out of its path. Unfortunately the quickest way for them to do that was to leap over the side of the boat and into the water. Even then it was touch and go for a moment whether they'd been quick enough.

The helicopter had been coming in low and now it was on a direct collision course with the Fair Weather. Its nose met the top of the wheelhouse and it twisted sideways as it did so, the rotors ploughing into the deck and chewing it up. Cole caught Marcus and Sam jumping into the water across the other side of the boat, but he didn't see what happened after that. The fuel tank of the helicopter ignited and the resulting explosion was enough to write off the Fair Weather as never being seaworthy again.

The water was freezing. Cole grabbed hold of a life ring that had ended up in the water, and barely had time to make sure that Baird's head was above water before a second explosion rocked the deck. It sent the both of them flying into the side of one of the Ostrian boats. Cole just had enough time to grab hold of Baird and shift himself so that it was his head that connected with the hull and not Baird's. The last thing he heard before he passed out was Baird cursing at him for being a stupidly heroic moron. At least that meant Baird was alive and well, which Cole would take as a good enough outcome to their current horrendous situation.


	23. Chapter 23

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Many thanks to all the reviewers of my previous chapter, and thanks for your favourites and follows. A big welcome to my new followers, I hope you're enjoying the story so far.

* * *

The Operations Centre received the distress call two hours after Delta left for Anvil Gate. Baird's message was short, but to the point. They were under attack by Ostrian forces, outnumbered and the Ostrians had a helicopter.

Anya was beside herself with worry. There was nothing that they could do to help, at least nothing that would get there in time. KR Eight-zero was on its way back from Gorasnaya with a medical emergency, so they would have to send a boat and none of the boats that they had were fast enough. Despite that, she scrambled the fastest boat that she had with Jace, Carmine and the rest of Beta squad on board. She also decided to despatch Corporal Thompson, one of Hayman's medics with them. Then, after only a moment's hesitation, she grabbed her gear and headed for the dock at breakneck speed, leaving Corporal Sakura in charge until she got back.

This boat was smaller and faster than the one that Delta had taken to Anvil Gate, so they made better time than the Fair Weather had. It still took them just over an hour to get to the last known co-ordinates of the CNV Fair Weather. They could see the smoke from a mile out and a sick feeling had settled in Anya's stomach. The sight that greeted them as they approached was not encouraging.

The Fair Weather was listing badly and seemed to have lost most of the cabins on its deck, with a large portion of the deck being missing. It was also on fire and was definitely taking on water, slowly but surely. There was the tangled wreckage of part of a helicopter sticking out of the side of the boat. A second ship was on fire beside the first. It was a smaller vessel and it had the markings of the Nation of Ostri on its hull.

"Look for life rafts," said Anya. She put her binoculars to her eyes and scanned the water. The others were doing the same.

"What in god's name happened here?" asked Jace.

"Whatever it was, no one came out of it well," said Carmine.

"I've got something," said Jace. The Gear had good eyes. "Over there." Jace pointed to an orange life raft floating a few feet from the Fair Weather. It was rather singed and didn't have as much air in it as it should, but it was still floating. They couldn't see if there was anyone actually in the raft.

"Damn it," said Anya. She turned to the boat master. "Get us as close to that raft as you can."

"Hey!" shouted Jace. "Anyone in the raft?"

There was no answer, just the sound of wood burning and water splashing against the hull.

The boat manoeuvred expertly in. Anya and Jace were already positioning themselves so that they could pull the raft in. It was covered by an orange emergency tarpaulin, which was there to keep the sun off any occupants, so even though they were very close now it was impossible to see if it held survivors. Anya and Jace climbed over the boat railings and Anya moved down the ladder on the side of the boat. Jace handed her the boat hook and she managed to pull the raft close enough that they could see a hand hanging over the edge of the inflatable hull.

Anya dragged off the tarpaulin and beneath it lay three people. She would feel bad to her dying day that her heart sang with joy that one of those three people was Marcus Fenix. However he didn't look too good. He lay curled on one side, protecting the two other people in the boat and he appeared to be unconscious. His clothes were singed and he had huge red wounds across his back, which must have been caused by the fire or debris from an explosion.

The other two people were Sam Byrne and Alex Brand, and they were also unconscious but appeared to have slightly less severe burns than Marcus's. This was now a medical emergency. None of the occupants of the raft would be escaping a stay in the Med Centre once they got them back to Azura.

"We've got survivors!" shouted Anya.

"Where's everyone else?" asked Carmine, as Anya and Jace jumped into the raft and began levering Marcus out and onto the deck of the boat. Anya said his name a few times but he showed no signs of coming round.

"They've got to be around here somewhere. Maybe there's another raft. We've got eight people unaccounted for," said Anya. There was a little bit of desperation creeping into her voice, but she shut it down. She had to be the leader here.

She moved on to getting Sam onto the boat. The female Gear groaned as Carmine helped Sam onto the deck, lying her down next to Marcus. Finally they got Alex out of the life raft and onto the boat. Sam's eyes fluttered open and she groaned once more. Thompson was already looking them over.

"Baird," muttered Sam, her eyes falling shut once more before they struggled to reopen. "Baird, Cole. Bloody Ostrians."

"Sam?" asked Anya. "It's okay, we've got you and we're taking you back to Azura. Can you tell me what happened?"

Sam was trying her best to push herself up and into a sitting position, whilst Thompson was trying to keep her lying down, on the side which had fewer burns.

"We were attacked. They had a helicopter," said Sam. "And men on a couple of boats. We repelled boarders for as long as we could. Baird made fire bombs from moonshine and soap. Marcus took down the helicopter, and then it all went to hell." She coughed harshly. "Shit, have you found Baird and Cole? We got separated."

Anya looked over at Jace. He was still scanning the waters, but shook his head. There was no sign of another life raft yet.

"We're still looking," said Anya. "You said there were two Ostrian boats and a helicopter?"

Sam managed a nod as Thompson pulled her back onto her side. The coughing continued, and Carmine handed her a water bottle, which she drank from gratefully.

"Where's the other boat?" asked Jace. "Did it sink?"

Anya looked out across the water, shaking her head. Holed boats could go down fast, but she didn't think that Delta and the crew of the Fair Weather had anything with them that could sink a boat.

"I think they left," said Alex, coughing herself awake. She looked as bad as Sam but not as bad as Marcus. "Keller's the spy. He had Cole and Baird at gun point. I went to intervene and he fired on me."

Sam was looking at Alex a little strangely. Maybe it was because it sounded very much like Alex had stopped Keller from killing Cole and Baird.

"Did you see what happened to them?" asked Anya.

Alex shook her head. "The helicopter came down and turned the place into an inferno. I barely made it into the water. Marcus grabbed me and pulled me into the raft a couple of minutes later. There were some secondary explosions and I don't know what happened after that."

"Shit," said Carmine.

"They have to be in another raft," said Sam. Anya recognised the desperate hope in her tone, but she wasn't at all convinced that there was anything to find.

"We'll run a search pattern," said Anya. She nodded at Jace and he went off to tell the crew what they were doing.

"We shouldn't hang around here too long," said Thompson. "They all have severe burns and we're risking infection setting in. Lieutant Fenix's pulse isn't as strong as I'd like. We need to get him back to Azura."

Anya looked down at Marcus and the other two survivors. She wanted to look after her partner, but she had to balance his life against the lives of the other people who had been on the rapidly sinking Fair Weather. This wasn't an easy decision.

"We'll do one pass, and then head for home. If there's another life raft out here then it should be easily spotted," said Anya.

Thompson busied himself with IV lines and trying to persuade Sam to stay down. She was desperate to join the search, but clearly not actually up to it, despite her protestations to the contrary. Anya left him to it, knowing that holding Marcus's hand would be a futile gesture at the moment, especially when she was needed elsewhere. She picked up a pair of binoculars and began to scan the horizon, looking for any approaching trouble or the missing squad members. There was only empty water and debris from the wrecked boats.

They spent the next hour searching the wreckage of the Fair Weather, but came up with nothing. By this point the survivors' conditions were all deteriorating and Anya couldn't justify staying any longer. Marcus still hadn't regained consciousness and Thompson had knocked Sam and Alex out with strong painkillers, which they both needed. It at least meant that Anya could put off telling Sam that her boyfriend was still missing and most likely dead. That wasn't something that she was looking forwards to.

* * *

Baird didn't beg often, but he had pleaded with the Ostrians who were on the boat that had pulled him out of the sea. Now he wasn't so sure if he'd made the right decision. But he couldn't just leave Cole floating in the water, unconscious and bleeding. He had no idea when the rescue party from Azura would get to the stricken boat. His only option had been to persuade that Ostrians that, as well as fishing him out of the water, they had to take Cole. He'd ended up by telling them that he'd kill himself before they could get to Ostri if they didn't take his friend. It seemed to have worked, because they'd grudgingly hoisted Cole into the boat as well.

He'd asked them to look for the others as well, but that request had been refused with a swift punch to the jaw. Then they'd tied his wrists together and the two of them had been thrown into the ship's hold, which was dark and wet, but at least wasn't the ocean. He'd done his best to staunch the bleeding of Cole's wound, but he had no medical supplies. He had used Cole's bandana as a bandage and hoped that it would be enough. It seemed superficial, but he was no expert.

He'd discovered that both his and Cole's radios had ended up at the bottom of the ocean during the rescue so he wouldn't be calling for help any time soon. After that there hadn't been anything else to do so he'd waited. Which was where he found himself now: sat in the damp, dark, rusting iron hold of a boat trying to avoid sitting in the worst of the puddles, with an unconscious and bleeding Cole draped across his lap.

He wasn't sure how long they'd been there for, but it had to have been hours. His brain was like a hamster in a wheel. It was seeing Daniel Carmine, lying in the Med Centre after he'd been cut off the front of a boat that he'd been tied to, with his bright red sunburnt skin. It was remembering how Daniel had been unable to even talk about his experiences in Ostri. But above that he was worried about the head injury that Cole had received. Of all people, he knew how serious head wounds could be, and Cole hadn't shown any signs of waking up. Unconsciousness was never a good sign. He had no way to find out how badly his friend was hurt, and he was in a confined space that was making him feel extremely uncomfortable.

About the only thing he had going for him at the moment was that they hadn't taken his knife or meds, which seemed to be dry and intact. He'd put them in his pocket in a plastic bag to make sure that they stayed dry, along with his most prized possession, his Marandaian Army knife. Previous experience aboard ships had prepared him for the possibility that even if nothing went wrong, stuff got wet. However, he wasn't going to take down the crew of the Ostrian boat with one knife, his hands tied, and an injured squad mate. If he even cut the ties on his wrists then they'd know that he had a knife on him and he didn't want to lose the only weapon that he had. Cole's guns had either been taken by the Ostrians or ended up at the bottom of the ocean.

Just as the panic was properly beginning to set in, Cole began to stir. He emitted a low groan that suggested that his head injury was as painful as it looked.

"Cole, come on, wake up," said Baird. He wanted to tap his friend on the cheek, but decided he didn't want to jar Cole's brain further.

Cole coughed and did his best to roll off Baird's lap. Baird grabbed him before he could manage it.

"Oh no you don't," said Baird. "Just stay still until I can work out how badly you're hurt."

"Say what?" mumbled Cole.

"Stop thrashing about. You hit your head and I don't want you making anything worse," said Baird. "Trust me, head injuries are a bitch."

Cole put a hand up to feel the edge of the bandana bandage and Baird swatted his hand away. "I feel like I've got the entire Cougars left field doing laps in my head. Where are we?"

"In the hold of one of the Ostrian boats that attacked us. At least you can form coherent sentences, so it can't be that bad."

He wanted to check Cole's pupil reactions but the light was too low down here. If there was anything really wrong with his friend then there wasn't much he could do about it. Although perhaps there was one thing he could do to help. Baird carefully pulled out the bottle of pain pills from his pocket. It wasn't easy with his hands tied together and he didn't want to drop them and lose them.

"Here, one of these should help. I doubt Hayman would approve of me handing out my pills without a prescription but this is an emergency and you need them more than I do. They didn't put any water down here with us, so you'll have to swallow it dry."

Cole took the small white pill that Baird shook out onto his hand and swallowed it without a word.

"So how deep are we in the shit this time?" asked Cole, glancing around at his surroundings.

"Right up to about here," said Baird, indicating his neck line. "I'm pretty sure that they're taking us back to Ostri. I doubt anyone noticed what happened to us and the last things that I saw before they shoved us down here was the Fair Weather going up in flames. That probably means that Marcus, Sam, Alex and the crew are dead, and if they weren't when the boat went down, then it'll be a while before a rescue team can make it out from Azura."

"Hey, you don't know that. They could have found a life raft," said Cole.

"Yeah, if they didn't all burn in the inferno from the helicopter crash. So pretty much all our friends are dead, and if Keller was right, then all of that was just so that they could grab me, which is worrying on so many levels."

Cole looked up at Baird from his horizontal position. "That bastard Keller is going to be the first person I kill when we get out here."

Baird appreciated the sentiment, because he felt the same way, but he had severe doubts about whether it was ever going to happen.

"Mr Keller has some very well armed friends," said Baird.

"Yeah, and when has that ever stopped us," said Cole, shuffling restlessly.

"Normally we have weapons," Baird pointed out.

"Hey, help me up. I need to get vertical," said Cole.

"That may not be a good idea," said Baird, but Cole was already halfway into a sitting position, so it was easier at this point to help than stop him. The two Gears managed to lever Cole up so that he could lean against the bulkhead next to Baird.

"Dizzy?" asked Baird, as he watched his friend try to get his bearings again.

"Yeah, this sucks."

"Welcome to the head injury fun club." Baird steadied his friend, finding the reversal of roles a little strange.

"How in hell have you put up with this every time you move?"

"It gets better and usually I'm okay as long as I don't move too quickly. That gash you've got didn't look too bad, so give it a couple of days and you'll be back to normal," replied Baird.

"Awesome," said Cole, half-heartedly.

Baird felt the motion of the boat change and then heard the engine noise lower in pitch. "Hey, I think we're approaching the shore."

"We need a plan," said Cole.

"Yeah, but we don't have much to work with. Can you even stand?"

Cole did his best to stand, but didn't make it far before he had to put out a hand balance himself on the wall.

"Great, we're not fighting our way out of here. We're totally screwed," said Baird after a moment of watching Cole struggle with his balance. The movement of the boat suggested that they had come into dock were now being tied up at a jetty.

"I think I'm going to puke."

"Well, don't do it all over me," said Baird, getting to his feet too. Cole did look kind of bad. "Shit. Okay, new plan, we play for time."

"Time for what?"

"I don't know, for you to stop feeling like you're going to hurl so that we can escape. Hopefully an opportunity will present itself," said Baird. "'Cos if it doesn't then we really are fucked." He was pacing now, desperately trying to think of something, anything that might get them out of this. His leg was aching which was making him limp a little, but he was doing his best to hide that so that Cole didn't have more to worry about. "Shit, shit, shit. Damn it, damn it, damn it."

The swearing wasn't helping, but it was an expression of deepening panic at their situation.

"Hey," said Cole. "We've got one mission. Survive and get home to our women."

"That's two," snapped Baird.

Cole just gave him an annoyed look. "That's what you're going to bitch about right now? You know what I'm talking about. We do what we have to and get through this."

"Okay," said Baird, taking a deep breath. "Okay. But we aren't telling them anything."

"Yeah, they're getting nothing from us."

They could hear the sound of footsteps on the metal stairs outside the door. Cole held out an arm, and Baird grasped it.

"Stay strong, baby," said Cole.

Baird nodded. Then the door was wrenched open and several armed men entered the room. Keller was just behind them.

"Take them ashore, we've got an appointment to keep," said Keller.

The guy with the gun said something in Ostrian and Baird and Cole were unceremoniously manhandled up the stairs and out into the light of day. Both of the prisoners blinked at the brightness of the sun, even though the daylight was now fading into evening. A gangplank had been erected from the boat to the shore. A poke in his back with a gun was all that was needed to get Baird moving forwards and onto dry land. He was very happy to be leaving the boat, even if he suspected that what lay ahead of them might be worst.

They were marched up a path through a wooded area. The track was a dirt path, edged with roughly cut logs, but was kept mostly free of weeds and branches which suggested frequent use. They could see Fort Kirnheim behind the trees, easily within walking distance for the healthy. But Baird was limping and Cole was clearly suffering. They both tripped on roots and the small uneven parts of the path. The soldiers kept them apart, so they had no opportunity to talk.

They were very nearly at the castle when, a few steps behind Baird, Cole's stomach finally gave in and he threw up everything that he'd eaten that day over one of the soldier's shoes. Cole went down on one knee as the dizziness got the better of him. Baird's first reaction was to go to Cole, but the guns that were shoved in his face made it clear that he wasn't going to be allowed to do that.

"Oh come on, he's got a head injury, probably a concussion. Let me help him. We'll get where we're going more quickly than if you don't," said Baird.

"The only reason he's here, is because you begged us to bring him and we can always use more men for the mines," said Keller. "If he can't work, if he's no use to us, and we don't need him anymore."

Keller pulled his gun and pointed it towards Cole.

"Wait! No, he just needs some water," said Baird. He couldn't keep the desperation out of his voice. He wasn't going to stand here and watch them shoot his best friend like a horse with a broken leg.

There was the sound of footsteps coming down the path from the castle, but Baird didn't turn around. His entire focus was on Keller, so he didn't see who was behind him. He was too busy calculating how far he could get towards Cole before someone shot him.

"No, don't kill him. Actually, he's still useful to us as well. He's Baird's friend. I thought I told you to take the girlfriend," said a woman's voice. Baird recognised it, and was suddenly confused, especially when Keller spoke.

"I'm sorry, Commander Ivo, the situation made it difficult," said Keller.

Finally Baird turned around and came face to face with the woman he knew as Katia Masters.

"Katia…" he breathed.

"Welcome to Ostri, Damon," said the dark haired woman with green eyes. He was very familiar with those eyes.

"I'd say it's good to see you, but I'm really not sure that it is," said Baird.

"Well, that depends a lot on you, Damon. I have questions and I think you have answers, but let's get Sergeant Cole inside before he gets any worse," replied Katia. She said something in Ostrian and he found himself ushered over towards Cole, where he helped his friend to his feet. Then it was made very clear to them that they should walk.

"Is that who I think it is?" asked Cole, quietly. "You called her Katia."

"Yeah, that's my ex," said Baird, with a sigh. The two friends leaned on each other, Baird keeping Cole stable and Cole compensating for Baird's limp.

"Then why are they calling her Commander Ivo?"

"No idea," muttered Baird. "Shut up and concentrate on walking."

They made it up the path, through the Silver Age gate post and portcullis, and were pushed towards the grey stone buildings of the castle. The vast size of the edifice was impressive, and the gated courtyard was surrounded on all four sides by tall buildings with crenulated emplacements and walls with walkways that armed soldiers patrolled. The security here was high and Baird's heart sank. Breaking out of this place was going to be almost impossible without weapons.

Katia disappeared into one of the other buildings, after shouting some orders in rapid Ostrian. Baird knew a few words in the language, but he didn't have anywhere near enough vocabulary to work out what was being said. Baird and Cole were taken in a different direction and down a set of worn stone steps.

The soldiers pushed their prisoners into an ancient looking cell, complete with rusting iron bars and a distinct lack of beds or other places to sleep. There was straw on the floor and a number of hessian sacks that also appeared to be filled with straw. There was a small barred window, well above head height that was too small for even a child to attempt to climb through. One of the soldiers gave Baird a more thorough search than he'd had on the boat and found both his pills and pocket knife. Baird protested, but both were taken from him and he got the butt of a rifle in his stomach for even voicing the words. It was enough to make him bend over in pain but he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of watching him fall to the ground. Then they took their armour too, but this time Baird was wise enough not to fight back.

The bars of the door clanged shut with a very final sound and the key scraped in the lock. Baird wondered why people suddenly felt the need to lock him up. He'd made it this far in life without seeing the inside of jail cell and now suddenly he'd been in two prisons in less than a week. This one didn't feel quite so claustrophobic thanks to the open bars, but it was still a cell and it didn't make him feel at all comfortable. Keller had supervised the entire process and now smiled at the captives from the other side of the bars.

"Commander Ivo will decide what to do with you when she's ready," said Keller.

"And I suppose we just wait here until then," said Baird. "You sold us out. You told them where to find us, didn't you?"

"Of course," said Keller.

"You're not Ostrian, you're from Tyrus, like us. Why would you sell out your own people? You can't be in it for the money because there isn't any currency that's worth the paper it's printed on anymore."

"Not everyone gives their loyalty blindly to the place they were born," said Keller. "I thought about who I would owe my allegiance to and I gave it to the people who deserved it most, not a collection of Imulsion barons who had nothing to distinguish them from a hundred other aristocrats who'd been out to line their own pockets before them. The Octus Canon may have sounded good with its high ideals and pretty language, but it was an empty document that left people in poverty while the rich continued to stay rich."

Baird couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure the Ostrians all gave half their fortunes to the poor before they became part of the COG. I don't remember reading about that in the history text books though, do you Cole?"

"Nah, I don't think there was anything in there about that. I'm pretty sure I would have remembered that," said Cole, who had sat himself down on the straw covered floor with his back to the wall.

"The Ostrians were honest. No one here was ever promised that their life was important, that they were a cog in an important machine. Here people know that no one will ever give them anything. If you want to move up then you have to take what you need, and we don't leave our citizens to burn," said Keller.

"Yeah, admittedly not the COG's finest hour, but Chairman Prescott, the real one, he's dead now, so why do we get to be the lucky ones that you take out your anger on?" asked Baird.

"My family died in the Hammer of Dawn strikes," said Keller. "I'd spent so much time spying for the COG in Ostri that I had a wife and children here. Chairman Prescott pressed a button and killed my family whilst I was running an errand for him on Azura. Can you imagine what that's like, Sergeant? You're sat in the most unimaginable, disgusting opulence while your wife and children burn to death. Can you imagine how that feels?"

For once Baird had no words. He just closed his eyes and shook his head. Suddenly his brain had reminded him that Sam was probably dead and he might just have lost the best thing that had ever happened to him.

"Hey, that's still no reason to kill more people," said Cole. "Humans shouldn't be killing humans anymore. There aren't enough of us left for that. We're all the same deep down, and we've got more in common than we've got differences."

"I wish I lived in your world, Sergeant Cole. It must be a nice place. I wish the world was really like that," said Keller. With that he walked away down the corridor.

Baird slumped down beside Cole. "We're in a lot of trouble, Gus."

"I know, Damon," replied Cole. They didn't say anything else for quite some time.

* * *

When she awoke, Sam was instantly aware of where she was. She'd spent a great deal of time in this place, just not normally as a patient. The pain from her injuries hit her next, and she let out an involuntary groan. Something was beeping beside her and the rhythm quickened.

"Corporal Byrne, it's okay, you're in the Med Centre."

Sam turned to see Corporal Jensen, taking note of the readings on the medical monitor beside her bed. He handed her a glass of water.

"You have several second degree burns down your left side and you're dehydrated."

She gratefully accepted the water and drank deeply.

"Baird?" she asked. "Where's Baird?"

Jensen's face fell. "He wasn't recovered with you and the others."

"What?" said Sam, her blood pressure sky rocketing and sending the monitor's electronic beeps into a new octave. She tried to push herself up on her good side but she wasn't feeling good and the pain was too much. It was tolerable if she lay completely still, but only just. "Is someone out looking for him?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know," said Jensen. "You really need to stay lying down."

"Where's Marcus?" asked Sam. If Jensen couldn't tell her what was going on then Marcus would definitely have a handle on what was going on by now.

"He's currently recovering from surgery," said Jensen. "His burns were more severe than yours and the doctor needed to debride some areas of skin and close some of his wounds."

"Anya then. Get me Captain Stroud." It was very clear from her tone that she wasn't going to take no for an answer here.

Jensen bustled away, cowed into action by his irate patient. Anya strode into the room a few moments later.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to be here when you woke up but Marcus has been giving us a few scares," said Anya. "How are you doing?"

"I feel like a steak that spent too long on the barbecue. Have you got search and rescue out looking for Baird and Cole?" asked Sam, seeing no reason not to get straight to the point.

"I sent KR Eight-zero out as soon as I could and they've been flying a spiral search pattern out from where the Fair Weather was attacked, but they haven't found any evidence of a life raft. It's been six hours since the attack, I don't think… I don't think there's anything for us to find," said Anya, her voice halting and nearly breaking. "I'm sorry Sam, but I can't keep Eight-zero out there much longer. We can't risk losing our only working helicopter or burning the fuel."

Sam shook her head. "No, he's out there somewhere. Baird's too smart not to have found a way to stay alive."

"Sam, I don't want to believe it either, but there's no sign of them and they couldn't have survived in the water this long without proper equipment," said Anya.

"No, he's out there," repeated Sam. "They're both out there. I'm going to take a boat and go and look for them." She did her best to throw off her covers and swing her legs out of the bed, but soon found that the pain became unbearable as she put pressure on her burns. Sam lay back in the bed, defeated by her own body. She felt tears in her eyes and blinked them away. She wasn't going to mourn for a man who definitely wasn't dead.

"Sam, don't," said Anya. "There's nothing you can do at the moment. You're injured and you need to heal." She gently readjusted Sam's blankets.

Sam looked up at Anya.

"I hope Keller's dead, because if he isn't then I'm going to kill him," said Sam.

Jensen poked his head into the room. "Ma'am, Lieutenant Fenix is showing signs of returning to consciousness."

Anya nodded at Jensen, before turning back to Sam.

"Don't worry. You'll get your chance to find out. As soon as Marcus and the rest of Delta are fit enough, I'm giving Marcus the go ahead on his strike force plan. The Ostrians have gotten away with far too much for far too long. I'm going to put a stop to this before we lose anyone else."


	24. Chapter 24

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Thanks everyone for your reviews and messages for the last chapter. Things go from bad to worse in this chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

Baird and Cole had to wait until the following morning for Katia to return, and she brought Keller with her. She sauntered into the corridor outside their cell and regarded the two men, who had both got to their feet. This morning she was wearing a uniform, dark green, tailored to fit her curves and with a good deal of gold braid on the sleeves and epaulets.

"Good morning, gentlemen," said Katia. "I hope you slept well."

Baird had not slept well, and neither had Cole. It wasn't just the lack of a proper bed or the rats that apparently also called the cell they were in home, it was more the worry of what was to come. Baird wasn't a coward, but he did have a highly tuned preservation instinct that had kept him alive through a long war. That instinct had been telling him to run ever since they'd stepped onto Ostrian soil the previous evening. Unfortunately their incarceration meant that running wasn't an option. However, Katia didn't need to know any of that and all of his other self-preservation instincts were kicking in, including his way with words.

"Yeah, we slept fine but your room service could use some work," said Baird. So far they'd been given water and a kind of porridge that Baird wouldn't have even called food.

"I'm glad to see that you haven't lost your sense of humour, Damon. I remember how much you used to amuse me," said Katia. "You should hold onto that. You're going to need it in the coming weeks."

She indicated that one of the soldiers should unlock the door, while another held a gun trained on the prisoners. A couple of guards carried in two metal chairs, placed them facing each other and they indicated that Cole and Baird were supposed to sit. Baird had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew what came next. There was no point in fighting, they were outnumbered but neither Baird nor Cole thought that way.

"Thanks, I think we'll stand," said Cole.

"As obstinate as ever," smiled Katia, but the smile very quickly turned sour. "Help our new friends to sit."

Baird and Cole were grabbed and forced into the chairs. Both struggled and earned a punch to the gut for their trouble. That pretty much put paid to any further serious resistance. Their hands were tied behind their backs and their ankles were tied to the chair legs, which made for a fairly uncomfortable sitting position but Baird doubted that Katia would care. Baird was sat to Katia's left and Cole was to her right.

She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out one of the bottles of pills that had been taken from Baird the previous day. She shook the pills in the bottle.

"These came from your pocket, Damon, my love. We have a number of chemists and medical researchers here. I'm told these could be for a range of conditions, but the dosage suggests that you take them for epilepsy. Mr Keller tells me that you had an unfortunate accident which resulted in a head injury. I need you at your best and that means you should take these regularly. When do you usually take them?"

Baird just looked at her. He had no wish to cooperate with their captors, but she seemed to know a lot about his epilepsy already. He still hesitated.

"Really? You're not going to answer even this simple question for me? I know that epilepsy medication is tricky to balance and it must be taken at the same time each day to be most effective. Save us both some trouble," said Katia.

Baird exchanged a glance with Cole. The other man gave him the most imperceptible nod, meaning that he agreed that Baird should just tell her. She already knew about the epilepsy and the worst she could do was withhold the medication, which was what was already happening at the moment if Baird said nothing. If he was ever going to get out of this then he needed to be free of the threat of seizures, or at least as near as he possibly could be.

"I take two, first thing in the morning," said Baird, grudgingly.

"Then you're overdue," said Katia.

She opened the pill bottle and flicked two pills out onto her hand. She pocketed the bottle once more. Then she picked up a tin mug from where it sat on the floor. It had been left with their breakfast that morning. She poured some water into it from a metal jug that had been sat on a table in the corridor. She approached Baird.

"I'll have to help you since you're a little tied up at the moment. Open your mouth," she said, fixing her eyes on Baird with a slight twist of a vindictive smile to her lips. She straddled his lap provocatively, clearly enjoying making Baird feel uncomfortable.

Baird rolled his eyes but did as asked, and Katia popped the pills delicately into his mouth. Then she held the cup of water to his lips.

"Swallow, Damon," she said, her tone low and only loud enough for Baird to hear. He tried not to look and see what Cole was making of all this. He took a drink of water and washed the pills in his mouth down his throat.

Katia moved off his lap. "Good boy."

Baird did his best not to show any reaction. He knew that this was about humiliation and showing them that they didn't have any control, but the longer he took his medication, the longer he would have to find a way out of this. Even if he hated it, taking the pills was better than not.

Katia stood looking at them, her attention on Baird.

"I'm so glad that you were able to join us," said Katia. "And you have my apologies for the poor treatment so far, but in Ostri we believe that adversity makes us stronger. We don't know whether we should call you our friends yet."

"I can tell you that one right now," said Cole. "We ain't your friends."

"That all depends on Damon," said Katia. "I have a question to ask of you, and if you answer it correctly then I'll let you out of here and you can both have accommodation in one of the nicer wings of the castle."

"But we still won't be allowed to leave, will we?" asked Baird.

Katia allowed the corner of her mouth to rise. "That depends on you, but not until you've completed your work."

"Then ask," said Baird. "Might as well get it over with."

"I want you to work for me," said Katia.

"I'm not sure that I even know who you are," said Baird. "It's been a long time."

"I am the Commander of the Soldiers of the Nation of Ostri," said Katia.

"When I knew you, you were a college student studying engineering," said Baird. "How did you end up here?"

"I spent several weeks trekking back to Ostri after I left you, but when I did get back here I found that a lot of the scientists that worked with my mother were still alive. They told me several interesting facts. First of all that Mauris Ivo was my father, and secondly that my mother was seen as a traitor to Ostri. I agreed with them. She was a traitor and my father had been killed because the COG had attempted to kidnap him. I may have spent many years growing up in Tyrus, but Tyrus was never my home. I am the daughter of a murdered patriot, and I am the daughter of a traitor to her home. I took the name of the parent I respected most."

"You've got your fact backwards," said Baird. "Mauris Ivo was killed by his own people. They didn't want his research falling into the hands of the COG. That's how they treated your dear old dad. I guess that makes them murderers too."

Katia landed a punch on Baird's jaw, and Baird winced, shaking his spinning head.

"Hey, I've got a head injury. If you want to kill me, then keep hitting," said Baird.

"Now, Damon, that isn't why I went to all the trouble of bringing you here," said Katia.

"Why did you? You already said that there were plenty of scientists left in Ostri," said Baird.

Katia shook her head. "That was at the start of the Locust War, by the end of it… well, I was lucky enough to be part of a programme to keep some of Ostri's scientists safe. They'd built a bunker, under this very castle. It was sealed and reinforced so well that even the grubs couldn't find their way through. At least that was the theory. In fact Ostri built several of these bunkers, one for each specialism. The grubs found some of them and broke in, but they never found this one. The only problem was the Ostrian government got their strategy wrong. They put all their eggs in one basket, and this bunker contained mostly life science specialists and a few chemists. I did my best to corral a few others, but we are distinctly lacking in engineers."

"And I'm supposed to solve that," said Baird.

"I was very gratified to discover that you were still alive, and even more so to find that you were in possession of a number of the COG's most important technical secrets. Ostri needs those secrets."

"You've killed people, people that I actually cared about. I'm not working for you." Baird regarded Katia with undisguised hatred.

"I had a feeling you might say that. You haven't changed much over the years."

Katia signalled to Keller to enter the cell. He'd dutifully been waiting outside and now he entered. Keller pushed a small trolley ahead of him that displayed a collection of tools that wouldn't have looked out of place in Baird's workshop. However, whilst that was pretty scary on its own, the needles on the shelf beneath were more worrying.

"You look like you've done this before," said Baird, trying very hard to keep the rising panic out of his voice.

He exchanged a look with Cole, and wished he had telepathy so that he could work out what his friend's hardened features meant. He suspected that Cole was freaking out about as much as he was, but he would never let Baird know it.

"We weren't always fighting grubs. We used to fight men," said Keller. "Sometimes we needed to ask them questions that they didn't want to answer."

"My chemists have been working very hard in my labs to come up with new drugs for us," said Katia. "I'm always looking for new test subjects. But we'll start with the traditional methods."

Keller grasped a knife from the trolley. The blade, sharp and long, glinted in the light and Baird's eyes widened. However, unexpectedly, Keller approached Cole.

"Hey, he doesn't know anything," said Baird, "leave him alone," and as soon as the words left his mouth he realised how strange they sounded coming from him. Apparently he cared sufficiently about Cole to not want to see him tortured, which was kind of tiresome right now, because he knew exactly what Keller and Katia had planned.

Katia's next words confirmed it.

"But he's your friend and you seem to care about what happens to him," she said.

Baird swore to himself that he'd been so obvious about how much Cole meant to him. That had been a stupid slip up.

Cole laughed. "Baird doesn't care about anyone except himself."

Baird wasn't offended. Firstly, not that long ago, Cole would have been right, but secondly it was becoming obvious that they were going to use his friendship with Cole against him. It was a futile gesture on Cole's part, because Baird's earlier behaviour on the path had already given away the fact that he really did care what happened to Cole.

"We'll see," said Katia.

She nodded to Keller, and he drew the large and shiny knife across Cole's arm. Cole gritted his teeth, apparently refusing to give his captors any kind of indication that this might hurt. The cut was shallow, but it bled profusely. Keller followed it with a second.

"If you won't work for us, then perhaps you'll tell us how you managed to free one of the Raven's from our control? How did you do it?" asked Katia, her arms folded over her chest.

"Don't you say a goddamned word, Baird," said Cole.

Keller swapped the knife to his left hand and punched Cole in the gut. The Gear doubled over awkwardly pulling against his tied wrists, the wind knocked out of him. He looked up at Keller with a flick of his eyes that held pure anger, and Baird wouldn't have wanted to be in Keller's shoes if Cole had the free use of his fists.

"You are so dead when we get out of here," Baird directed at Keller.

"I haven't even begun," said Keller.

"Maybe we should give Baird a taste of the action too," said Katia.

Keller smirked and moved over to Baird. Now it was Baird's turn to grit his teeth as Keller sliced into the flesh of his arm. His skin felt as if it was on fire as the blade cut into him and he felt the warm blood drip down his arm, as more cuts were made.

"Still don't feel like answering?" asked Katia.

"Fuck you," Baird ground out. He was angry and he could use that anger against the pain, so he let it seethe and bubble inside him. At some point the adrenaline would wear off and he'd have to deal with the come down.

Katia smiled and Keller resumed cutting. This time he removed Baird's t-shirt with swift strokes of the knife, not caring if he nicked skin as he did it. Then he sliced into Baird's left pectoral with new found enthusiasm. Baird felt sweat break out on his skin. At least the new pain was distracting him from the old. Keller clearly decided that he'd done enough cutting of Baird's skin and moved back to Cole, who received the same treatment.

When the knife didn't seem to be working for him, Keller picked up a cattle prod and Baird had to watch his best friend endure a series of harsh electric shocks - the last of which actually elicited a groan from Cole. He knew that it had to be excruciatingly painful. For some reason Keller didn't turn around and use it on Baird, perhaps because the ex-spy was having too much fun watching Cole jerk rigidly in his seat. Finally Cole passed out, which Baird was kind of glad about. They couldn't torture him if he was out cold. Baird was doing his best to maintain a stoic exterior but internally he was panicking. He couldn't see a way out of this and he had strong doubts that anyone was going to come and rescue them.

Keller was turning back towards him with the cattle prod in his hand and Baird knew exactly how this was going to go. He steeled himself for the next round.

"This would be much more pleasant for everyone concerned if you would answer my questions," said Katia.

Keller gave him a moment to formulate an answer and then shoved the cattle prod into his ribs. Baird yelled, partly from shock and partly from pain. How had Cole managed to endure this with only minor grunts? He had no idea. Baird rapidly lost track of how many questions Katia asked and how often Keller shocked him. It seemed to go on for a very long time and then he totally lost his grip on reality as his brain responded to the shocks and sent him into epileptic convulsions with only the slightest of warnings.

When he came round he was lying on the floor and Cole was sat next to him. He recognised the sluggish feeling in his limbs and brain. His thought processes felt like they were mired in glue and his words were stuck to the inside of his skull, refusing to move out through his mouth. He waited a moment, trying to remind himself that post-seizure states didn't last and he definitely would be able to speak again.

"Hey, Baird, you had a seizure," said Cole. He looked tired and Baird wondered how many times Cole had repeated that phrase before he responded.

"Shit," was Baird's only coherent reply after another minute of struggling with his words. "Damn it, we're still stuck in a cell, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but at least Keller got tired of beating on us."

Cole held out a hand and Baird grasped it, using it to pull himself into a sitting position with his back to the stone wall of his cell. Baird could see that Cole's bruises were swelling and the blood was drying across his skin. The light was dimming, but Baird could still make out just how nasty his friend's injuries were. He imagined that he looked equally bad, and they were about to spend another night in this godforsaken hell hole. The cuts would probably end up infected and start poisoning their blood in less than a day in these conditions. Baird remembered his previous experiences with wound infections and shuddered at the thought.

"They left us some food," said Cole.

He pushed a metal plate in Baird's direction. It contained an apple and some bread. They'd left a jug of water too. Baird didn't feel much like eating and he couldn't help but think back to Sam doing her best to tempt him to eat when his medication was screwing with his appetite. The memory hurt just a little. He forced himself to pick at the bread and looked at the apple warily.

"How come they have fruit here?" he asked. "The COG never had fruit until we got to Azura."

"Daniel Carmine said that they had forests. Maybe that includes orchards," said Cole. "And how they get their apples is the least of our problems."

Baird shrugged. He was doing his best not to think about their problems because he'd already been over all the possible solutions and come up with nothing workable.

"You're the genius," said Cole. "Haven't you figured us a way out of this yet?"

"Not unless you can pick old locks, fight off hundreds of soldiers with your bare hands, and swim across an ocean. We're pretty much totally screwed otherwise."

"You need a positive mental attitude, baby. If you think like that then we ain't ever going to get out of here."

"Yeah, well, it's hard to be positive when you've just spent the day being tortured by your ex-girlfriend."

"You really know how to pick 'em," said Cole.

"Do I analyse your choice in past girlfriends? No, I don't," said Baird, crossly.

"None of mine have been psychopathic maniacs bent on world domination," replied Cole, pointedly.

Baird groaned. "Look, I'm tired, I'm hurting, my brain is fried and I just want to sleep."

Cole let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, me too." He paused for a second. "Marcus'll come and get us."

"Marcus is dead. No one could have survived that explosion if they were still on the ship. The only reason _we_ survived was sheer dumb luck and your stupidly hard head."

"Nah, he isn't dead. It'll take more than that to get rid of Marcus Fenix and when he gets here, your ex isn't going to know what hit her. Have a little faith."

Baird shook his head and gave a humph of non-committal disagreement. He appreciated the optimism but he couldn't believe it as easily as Cole was willing to. His friends were dead and nothing he did could change that. He had to find a way out of this, but at the moment he couldn't see it. He made himself as comfortable as he could and did his best to sleep. It was about the most productive thing that he could do.

* * *

Marcus had only been awake for less than twelve hours and already he wanted out of the Medical Centre. He'd never been a good patient, and up until now his injuries had always been minor. He hated hanging about doing nothing at the best of times and this was most definitely not the best of times. He was in pain and members of his squad were missing, presumed dead. He wasn't prepared to believe that they really were. Everything about this screamed that they'd somehow walked into a trap.

Anya had been at his bedside when he awoke and filled in the blanks of what had happened after his memory had given up on recording events. He remembered pulling Alex and Sam into the boat, but everything after that had become very hazy. According to Anya, there had been secondary explosions from the helicopter hitting the boat and it had probably been one of those that had driven him into unconsciousness. Alex and Sam had both sustained burns, but he'd got the worst of it, most likely because he'd been trying to protect them.

Baird and Cole, and the rest of the members of the boat's crew had been nowhere to be found. Sam was kicking up a fuss and talking about getting a boat to go out to the site of the attack, but she was too ill to be going anywhere for at least another couple of days. Hayman was telling Marcus that he'd probably be in the Med Centre for at least five days himself, maybe a week if the fever he was currently running got any worse. He wasn't planning on following her instructions, but he did need his body to be in good enough condition that he could make it back to his quarters. He couldn't force his body to heal no matter what kind of mental toughness he used.

Right now, he was stuck in a hospital bed and he was suddenly getting an insight into why Baird hated this place and tried to avoid it at all costs. Being in the Med Centre was dull. Neither Marcus nor Baird were great at sitting still and doing nothing, they had that much in common. They also shared a dislike of strong pain medication, but burns hurt and Anya had been clear that Marcus would take the damn pain meds or he'd have her to answer to. She had brought him the satellite images of Fort Kirnheim and the shores of Ostri, but it was just bringing the disaster on the Fair Weather into sharper relief. He wanted to throw the photographic images across the room, but if he did then he'd never be able to get out of bed and retrieve them.

Anya entered the room, looking tired but composed. Once again she was proving why Hoffman had put his trust in her.

"How are Sam and Alex doing?" he asked, before his partner could get a word out. Marcus's voice was rough from inhaling smoke, making it even more gravely than usual. It was still sore when he spoke and his throat was constantly, annoyingly, dry.

Anya let out a small sigh. "They're healing but getting bored of lying around. Give them a couple of days and they'll be back on their feet."

"What about you?" asked Marcus.

"Me?" asked Anya, taken by surprise that he'd ask. "I'm fine. I didn't get caught in an explosion and nearly end up food for the fish."

"You don't look fine," replied Marcus. He carefully reached for the glass of water at his bedside, and Anya handed it to him before he could strain himself too much. He fixed Anya with a look which didn't waiver.

Anya met his eyes, before shaking her head.

"I just had to tell Aurelie that we've given up searching for Cole. She didn't take that too well."

"They're not dead," said Marcus, sipping his water to ease his throat.

"You and Sam seem pretty certain about that," said Anya. "I wish I had your faith."

"I know them. There's no way they'd have gone down without a fight and we didn't find their bodies."

"They could have been caught in the explosion," said Anya. "If they had burns like yours, and are still out in a life raft on the water, then they don't stand a chance. Infection was already setting in by the time we got to you, Sam and Alex."

"We were attacked by two boats, and you only found the wreckage of the Fair Weather and one other."

"It could be at the bottom of the ocean," Anya pointed out.

"Then it sank quickly. It's more likely that they took Baird and Cole and left." He handed Anya the satellite images, pointing at the trucks parked at the compound. "They have vehicles. They could probably use a mechanic."

"It seems a lot of trouble to go to just to snatch Baird," said Anya.

"Maybe, but we don't know what else is going on there," said Marcus. "And whilst he was on Azura, they'd never have managed to get hold of him. Someone was with him almost all the time because of his epilepsy."

"And it would have signalled all-out war with Ostri. We'd have had no choice," said Anya. Her brow furrowed in thought. "Okay, so assuming that they were taken… they're not going to kill them because otherwise they would have done that back at the boat. They'll use Cole as leverage and put Baird to work. You're planning a rescue mission, aren't you?"

Marcus gave Anya one of his most dangerous smiles.

"Yeah, they're going to regret taking my friends. I'm going to make sure of that."

* * *

The dawning of morning in the Ostrian prison was as miserable as expected. Baird and Cole were rudely awoken by being dragged upright and shoved into the same chairs that they'd been in the previous day. Katia stalked into the cell with Keller behind her.

"I'm getting quite tired of your refusals, Damon," said Katia. She took out a boltok piston from its holster on hip and levelled it at Cole's knee. "Once upon a time we had the technology to replace a knee joint. We don't anymore."

"Hey, I thought you were into equal opportunities torture," said Baird, desperately trying to draw her attention away from Cole.

"I am," said Katia, not even looking at Baird. "And if you don't do what I want then I'll introduce you to the nice doctors in our medical research wing. They always need new subjects to test their drugs on. Unfortunately their turnover of test participants is quite high. But Cole will lose a leg first."

She cocked the gun.

"Woah, wait!" said Baird.

"Don't you dare, Damon," said Cole. "I'll be just fine without a leg."

"Both of them?" asked Katia, with a cold look.

"Shit," said Baird.

Katia changed the angle of her shot and fired. A bullet ploughed into Cole's thigh, and the Gear shouted out in pain.

Baird screamed in frustration, pulling against the ropes that held him in place. "You bastards! You fucking bastards!"

Katia turned around and looked at Baird with steely, cold determination in her eyes.

"The next one is in his right knee, the one after that will go in the left, the one after that will go in his skull."

Baird took a deep breath. "Fine, I'll do what you want, but you give him medical attention and I get to see him every day. If you hurt him again, then I don't care what happens, I will find a way to end you and your little empire."

"Brave words, my love, but I will keep my promise about using you as a test subject if you stall or hinder me in any way," said Katia. "And then, if you're still alive, I'll make you watch what I do to Cole before I kill you both."

"I'm not your "love", bitch," said Baird.

Katia punched him and Baird saw stars for a moment.

"Take him to the engineering lab and put him to work," said Katia.

Keller nodded and Baird was once again wrenched to his feet. He and Cole managed a brief moment of eye contact before Baird was being shoved away out of the cell and down the corridor. One of the guards had moved in to tend to Cole's wound. Once again Baird's fate wasn't in his own hands, he could only be pushed along and hope he could find a way out of this later that wouldn't get both he and Cole killed.


	25. Chapter 25

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Warning for some pretty dark stuff in this chapter. Also apologies for the inevitable typos, I'm working without a beta at the moment. And yes, it has been far too long since I last updated this.

* * *

Cole spent the next two days in the castle infirmary, having his leg tended to. Katia had seemingly deliberately aimed for the soft flesh and the bullet had missed anything vital. The care was professional but coldly inhuman, and he was kept handcuffed to the bed, feeling more like a pet that needed veterinary care than a human being. The fact that they bothered at all surprised him at first, but when they pushed Baird into the room at 9am on the dot on both days he began to understand why he was being taken care of. They managed to exchange about a sentence before Baird was dragged away again.

On the third day, after the usual 9am "proof of life" visit with Baird, they apparently decided that he was sufficiently recovered that he could be put to work. He limped and needed a stick to walk, but it was better than lying around in bed. He'd bet his remaining good leg that Baird was already working on a plan to get them out of here, so all he had to do was survive and look for any way to assist him.

The guards walked Cole out of the castle courtyard and down a well-worn path to a rocky outcropping. He and his keepers rounded the rocks to see the entrance to a mine, shorn up by ancient looking wooden beams, each one dark with weathering and age. Rusted mine cart rails curved into the entrance, like long snakes entering a predators gaping maw. The place smelt of damp earth, mildew, pine trees and death. It was an odd combination and not one that Cole wanted to spend any time around. Alas he wasn't being given a choice and was propelled ahead into the mine.

It took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the shadows and darkness inside, and then he saw the people. It made him cringe to look at them and reassess the level of his own problems, all in one quick thought. They were unbearably thin, dirty and dressed in clothes that were falling apart. The rags couldn't do much to keep them warm or protected from the rough rocks. However, the most noticeable feature of all the people around him was the way that they cowered and tried to make themselves look as inconspicuous as possible, slinking closer to the rocks. They were all scared out of their wits by the simple presence of the guards.

"Sit," said one of the guards, pushing Cole towards a rock. Cole gave him a look, but had no choice but to crumple onto the rock. It wasn't a dignified movement, but his leg was hurting after the walk. He wasn't going to be doing any long hikes any time soon and he definitely wasn't going to be running for a while.

One of the guards went over to what looked like a pile of rags and began dragging it towards the mine entrance. As he pulled, it an arm flopped out of the pile and Cole was horrified to discover that it was a person – unmoving, not breathing. No one else seemed shocked by the way the guard casually dragged the body away, but Cole was. It was unbelievable that human life was so cheap here, after everything that he and his friends had fought for. Humanity shouldn't be doing this to itself. It had already lost too much to the Locust and the Lambent.

They gave Cole a pick and told him to chip away at the rock, in his injured state it was all he was really good for but he'd be moved on to the mining face once he was more mobile. His first instinct was to turn around and bury the pick in the guard's head, but they had guns and he wouldn't get ten feet before they cut him down. If he'd only had himself to think about then he might have considered a desperate charge, but if he died now then there'd be no one to get Baird out. He wondered how many of the prisoners had thought similar thoughts to the ones that he was having now.

And it soon became clear what happened if you didn't work. The guards had batons and weren't afraid to use them on anyone that looked like they were slacking off. Men and women both got the same treatment. The guards made sure that the mine kept producing its daily quota of ores. At about mid-day they started to allow groups of workers to stop to drink water and eat a meagre portion of food. Cole wasn't able to readily identify what it was he was given, but he was aware of his situation and knew that this was the only food he'd be getting. Everyone around him was clearly starving and he would be too eventually. All he could do was keep his strength up for as long as possible.

One of the women was detailed off to bring the water round to the other prisoners. She carried a heavy bucket and used a cup to scoop out the ration of water. Cole watched her for a few seconds, feeling that there was something about her that was familiar. There was something in the way she moved. Then he caught the red of her hair. It was straggly and dirty, but that hadn't dulled the underlying colour. She wore what might have once been a green t-shirt and grey trousers.

She reached his position and offered him the cup, not paying much attention to him, just going through the motions. Cole put a hand on her arm, needing her to look up so that he could be sure.

"Sofia?"

She frowned and raised her eyes to meet Cole's. He could see the shock written across her face as she recognised him.

"Cole," she whispered. She glanced back furtively towards the guards, whose collective attention was elsewhere at the moment. She knelt in front of the rock he sat on so that she could keep an eye on their position but also speak to him.

"What are you doing here? I mean how…?" Her voice was dry and didn't sound exactly like the Sofia that he'd served with back at Halvo Bay.

"Long story, baby, long story. They've got Baird too. Put him to work in their engineering lab," Cole whispered. "They grabbed you at Halvo Bay?"

Sofia nodded. "And brought me here. Paduk tried to stop them, but he never had a chance."

"Yeah, we bumped into him a few months back. He wasn't too happy to see us. He took COG tags off the guy he killed."

"Some of the guards are ex-COG. They gave us all a choice. Either we became one of them," she nodded towards the guards, "or we got put to work. I still don't think I made the wrong choice."

"Not really my thing either, beating on helpless prisoners," said Cole. "Look, Baird's probably already thinking about ways to get us out of here..."

Sofia raised an eyebrow. "Good luck with that. We had a pilot in here that broke a bunch of people out of here. They dragged half of them back and killed the rest. There's no way out. I've been here a long time and I've tried to see a way, but it just isn't possible. There's too many of them and they're too well armed."

The guards were beginning to move in their direction. Sofia got to her feet again.

"Hey, wait," said Cole, stopping her before she could leave.

"Tonight," said Sofia. "We'll all be locked in down here and there won't be any guards. We can talk then."

Cole nodded, finished his water and passed the cup back to Sofia. "Tonight."

She moved away before the guards could notice their interaction, and Cole felt the loss of her presence. Two COG soldiers might have a chance where one would have failed, and he'd just found a friend that he thought he'd lost. Something good had finally happened.

* * *

In another time and place Baird would have been ecstatically happy to have such a well-equipped facility to work in. It wasn't anything like his workshop back on Azura, where he dealt in cannibalised parts and hack jobs by re-using whatever he could. Here they had machines that had been locked away in a bunker and hadn't been taken out of their original factory packing. They were pristine and they worked when he turned them on. They even had spare parts, in crates that were labelled and catalogued very precisely in neat Ostrian script. Everything was clean and tidy, and he didn't have to look for anything he wanted.

When he'd first been pushed into the lab, wounds fresh from his torture and angry at being shoved around, they'd cuffed him to a bench. Then a woman, who he guessed was a medic or a doctor, had been ushered in to deal with cleaning the cuts on his body and applying bandages. He'd been given back his epilepsy meds and the woman had questioned him on the dosage he was taking and how often. Then she'd told him to let the medical lab know when he needed more.

The casual manner in which she'd said it floored him slightly, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He needed his epilepsy medication to function and get out of this place. If they were capable of providing more then he'd take it gratefully. He was also surprised when she asked him if his leg was bothering him and if he needed a brace or cane to make himself more comfortable. He shook his head at that. His leg was bothering him, but he'd rather be more mobile and a brace would just slow him down.

The doctor left and the rest of the lab staff introduced themselves. A guy called Professor Bruno Jaeger was in charge, and he had been a neuroscientist and surgeon before Katia had put him to work. He hadn't been prepared to take part in the medical experimentation that went on down the hall so they'd set him to lab work. He was at least ten years older than Baird, with greying hair and a bristly salt and pepper moustache and beard. He strangely reminded Baird a little of Professor Elliot, but Professor Jaeger spoke very little Tyran and Baird spoke even less Ostrian.

The other scientists seemed cowed and afraid, almost embarrassed to talk to him. Some of them spoke Tyran, but their ability in the language was pretty variable and scientific discussion clearly wasn't going to be on the cards. They mostly had specialisms in chemistry and biology, some of them were medical doctors, and Baird could have used a few of them to have helped him set up the pharmaceuticals lab back on Azura. But he'd also been assigned a couple of assistants who had some knowledge of engineering and mechanics. They were going to be monitoring his work and it was made clear that they would be reporting back on his progress.

At the end of the day he was shown to room which was going to be his new quarters. It was sparsely decorated with only one wooden chair and a bedside table, but actually had a bed with a real mattress and blankets. It was in the main castle, but on the second floor, so had slit shaped windows, which even though they had glass in them, were too narrow for him to consider escaping through. It felt like luxury after the prison cell in the castle dungeon, but he was still under guard every second of the day. Katia wasn't taking any chances.

He did his best to ignore the screaming from the medical labs which he passed on the way to see Cole in the infirmary the next morning. He caught a glimpse through the door of a blood soaked floor and decided that was all he needed to know about what went on in there. Katia had mentioned that she let medical experiments take place and that she would hand Baird over to them if she thought he wasn't doing as he was told. He had the proof that she hadn't been bluffing right there. At least Cole was being given medical attention and was safe for the moment.

He spent two days just tinkering with machines that they brought him, mostly inconsequential stuff, like computers that had died or a portable generator that needed fixing. Then they had him look at some of the broken lab equipment. They even took him out to examine some ancient fixed gun emplacements that sat on the turrets, but they were so rusted and old that he doubted he'd have much hope of getting them working. He hadn't minded any of that, and it was easy stuff so it gave him time to think of the start of plans to escape.

However everything changed on the third day when a scientist that he'd never seen before came into the labs. He walked around like he was in a dream state. The others called him by his first name, Carl, which he responded to and he seemed capable enough of attending to his own needs. His behaviour was bizarre though. He did whatever was asked of him, however he seemed to have a reasonable intellect and was able to solve quite complex problems on his own. If he finished a job then he would just stand around until someone gave him another one.

Baird's curiosity got the better of him and he asked one of his assistants, a smarmy bastard called Nieheim, who he was.

"What's his story?"

"Carl?" asked Nieheim. "He's one of Katia's pets. He didn't do as he was told so she sent him to the labs and he came back like that. Now he just does what everyone tells him to."

Baird did his best to suppress a shudder. "She took his freewill?"

"Yeah," said Neiheim. "I suppose so. You'd better watch out. You might be the next one she decides to do that to."

Baird had already worked that one out. The need to find a way out of this was even more desperate now. He did not want to end up like Carl. They guy was a zombie, walking around and following orders. He didn't seem to show any emotions, he was just an empty husk of a man.

Baird had spent the last two days taking a sort of mental inventory of everything that was in the lab and all the other things that he had at his disposal. He was going to need to plan very carefully if he didn't want to get caught, but he probably had everything he needed. It was definitely time he started putting stuff together. He needed to find out where Cole had been taken since they'd discharged him from their Infirmary, but that shouldn't be too hard.

Katia entered the lab about half an hour later and gave him even more reason to get moving. She was dressed in her uniform and everyone saluted her as she passed, even some of the scientists.

"I hope you don't expect me to do that," said Baird, as she approached.

Katia gave him one of her dangerous, serpentine smiles. "I don't need you to salute me to know that you're under my control. Admittedly not entirely willingly, but we can't always get what we want. I'm glad to see that you've met Carl."

"Oh yeah, he's the life and soul of this place. Great guy," replied Baird, sarcastically.

Katia reach a hand out and touched Baird's cheek. "Don't make me do that to you."

He was conscious of the guards that Katia had behind her. He would have slapped her hand away, but he couldn't be sure that one of her minions wouldn't shoot him for the transgression. Her touch made his skin crawl, now that he knew exactly what she was capable of, but he didn't move. He had to survive this. He had to survive so that he could deal with this witch and her army of psychopathic nutcases, and make certain that none of them got as far as Azura and her technological marvels.

Unfortunately Katia clearly knew something about what was on Azura.

"I want the Hammer of Dawn," said Katia, her hand dropping back to her side.

"No," said Baird. The room suddenly went still.

Katia slapped Baird hard across the face.

"If I say that I want something then you ask me when. I don't take "no" as an answer."

Baird's skin stung from the blow. "Even if I had the codes, I couldn't give you the Hammer of Dawn. Half the satellites are gone or broken. Even the COG daren't use it in case it hits something important accidentally. It can't be aimed anymore. You're barking up the wrong tree, Katia."

Katia took a step closer to Baird. "Find a way, or I'll see if the medical labs need a new test subject."

Baird shook his head. "Threatening me won't make dead satellites work. We'd need to launch a manned space mission to repair them, or launch another satellite, several in fact. We don't have that kind of technology anymore."

"You're lying, and if you keep lying then some very bad things will be happening to you and your friend. Currently I've told the guards to go easy on Cole, but that doesn't have to continue. Very occasionally I let my soldiers have some fun. I release one of our workers into the woods and they have to try to hunt them down. Cole would be a fantastic hunt, but with that bad leg of his, well he can't run so fast now can he."

Baird opened his mouth and started to say "you fucking bitch…" but one of the guards hit him on the back with the butt of his rifle. Baird fell to his knees.

"You've got three days to bring me something," said Katia, and stalked out of the lab before Baird could pull himself to his feet again.

Yes, he definitely needed to get that plan going. He was rapidly running out of time.

* * *

Cole managed to shuffle himself enough that when the guards threw blankets at their prisoners, and told everyone it was time to sleep, he was close to Sofia. The prisoners were chained up at night, attached by manacles to a long chain that went through iron rings that were attached to the mine's rock walls. There weren't enough blankets to go round, and Cole very much got the impression that it wasn't at all unusual for prisoners to die in the cold of the night. He and Sofia huddled together and whispered softly.

"I'm sorry that you're here," said Sofia.

"Yeah, me too," replied Cole.

"So, give me the story," said Sofia.

Cole went through the fight on the boat and how they'd ended up being taken prisoner by the Ostrians. He explained how Keller had betrayed them and how it was all just a setup to get Baird.

"I know that he's good with machines, but it seems overkill just to get a mechanic," said Sofia.

Cole shrugged and stretched out his aching leg. "Katia wants him for something, and I don't think it's just so that he can fix their trucks."

"Katia?" asked Sofia.

"She's the one they call Commander Ivo and in charge of this bunch of psychos. Apparently she and Baird dated back in college," said Cole.

Sofia's eyes widened slightly. "That's… Actually I don't know what that is."

"I'm going to go with creepy," said Cole.

Sofia raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Does it help us or make things worse?"

"Probably makes things worse. She tortured him, so I don't think she's got any feelings left for him now," said Cole. "In fact, maybe she hates him all the more because he went off and became a Gear. Look, we need to be ready to move, Baird's going to have a plan and we're going to have to be prepared to take our cues when we get them. We might not get another chance."

"What if he doesn't come up with something?"

"Then we pick our moment and we go on our own. We'll just have to hope that the blond genius is ready when we come his way."

Sofia nodded. "Okay, I've been keeping an eye on the guards and what their patrol patterns are. I reckon the two of us together could get a couple of guns and deal with the others before anyone notices what we're doing. Then it's just a matter of freeing the other prisoners, but without guns we won't get anywhere."

Sofia had been paying attention and she gave him a thorough account of the movements of the guard. Cole didn't expect any less from her. She'd always been smart and a good soldier. She had been one of the few remaining members of the Onyx Guard, and they chose their recruits carefully.

Cole began to feel a little more hopeful that this might work, however being hopeful wasn't going to be enough. They were going to need luck and skill, and even then they could all wind up like Daniel Carmine's band of forlorn escapees. Cole and Sofia had been Gears for long time though, and had given themselves up to the idea that death was part of their lives years ago. Cole still would have been happier if he'd had his best friend with him, but at least he wasn't alone in this now.

She asked him about Paduk and how his small band of survivors was doing. He gave her as much information as he could, but he wasn't sure what Paduk had planned once the Locust and Lambent were dealt with. All he could really tell her was that he'd been alive when he'd last seen him and apparently so had a good proportion of the rest of the group. Sofia was at least glad to hear that and she allowed herself a smile. Cole thought it might have been the first that he'd seen on her face since he'd found her.

After a decent session of planning, the two Gears huddled together for warmth and slept. Tomorrow was another day of trying to survive a nightmare, and all they could do for now was hang on until the right moment presented itself.

* * *

It took Baird a couple of days to carefully amass all the supplies that he needed without anyone knowing about it. Things were actually going pretty well. Every morning he was taken to the ramparts of the castle, and then Cole would be brought out so that he could see him. Baird noted the limp, but other than that his friend seemed to be doing as well as could be expected. They were never given long enough to even acknowledge the presence of the other, but they knew that the other was still alive and that was enough for now.

At least Baird's seizures seemed to be under control now that he was back on his medication. He was thankful for small mercies, but it did highlight just how shitty their situation was that this was the brightest point in it. Baird concentrated instead on building something that would get him out of this mess. They'd let him go back to the gun emplacements on the wall and he'd squirreled away enough explosive material that he could make something of it. Then he'd very cautiously started to work out how best to make use of what he had. He was watched constantly, but luckily even his assistants didn't really understand what he was doing.

The problem was that Katia was going to want a report on his Hammer of Dawn progress and he had nothing. He'd put together a list of all the working satellites and some statistics on how inaccurate the Hammer now was, but that definitely wasn't going to satisfy her.

Katia came storming into the lab and over to his workspace with her usual haughty air. She looked at Baird and held out her hand without a word.

Baird sat on a high stool at the lab bench. He wasn't going to stand if he could help it. His leg was still causing him pain some days and resting it seemed to help. He gathered the papers that he'd been working on and handed them to her. She took one look at them and threw them back in his face.

"You think that's enough?" she shouted at him. "I want the Hammer of Dawn and you will give it to me."

Baird maintained his calm expression.

"I told you, the satellites are broken. I can't make it work. Even if I had the communication and firing station, which I don't, there aren't enough satellites left to get any kind of accuracy."

"You clearly don't understand that when I give you an order, I expect it to be obeyed. I think you need a lesson in obedience."

Katia summoned the guards that always accompanied her. Keller was with them today. Probably he was there to watch because Katia had known that Baird wouldn't deliver. He couldn't, after all. If he gave Katia the Hammer of Dawn then she'd be the most powerful person on the planet and he was only partially correct about the Hammer being beyond repair. It could be done, but it was weeks of work not days, and aiming would still be somewhat hit and miss, literally.

Katia called out across the lab. "Carl, come here."

The quiet man came immediately, leaving the work that he was in the middle of.

"Yes, Commander Ivo," he said.

"Carl, this is Baird. He hasn't done what he's told. You know how bad that is, don't you?"

Carl nodded. "Yes, Commander Ivo."

She handed Carl her gun and took a step back. "Take the gun, and then we'll show Baird how well you obey orders. He needs to learn."

"Yes, Commander Ivo." Carl took the gun and waited for further instructions.

"Hey, wait a minute here," said Baird. "I just need more time. Give me a few more days and I'll have something for you."

"Carl, put the gun to your head," said Katia.

"Yes, Commander Ivo," said Carl.

"Take the safety off," said Katia.

"No, stop it," said Baird, and moved forward to find himself held back by Katia's guards. "You've proven your point."

"I don't think I have," said Katia. "Carl, pull the trigger."

The gun shot rang out around the lab. Blood splattered across the surfaces and Baird's skin and clothes. Carl dropped to the ground in silence. Baird couldn't move. He'd seen enough death and blood to last him a life time. He'd seen squad mates and comrades in arms killed on the battlefield in their hundreds, he'd even seen men commit suicide, but it had never been like this. It had never been directly his fault.

"Remove this rubbish," said Katia to the guards.

"You're a psychopath," said Baird, the words said with seething venom.

"I'm a commander," said Katia. "And I get what I want. You'd do well to remember that."

"You just killed a man in cold blood to get a broken weapons system," said Baird with barely controlled anger.

"Then make sure his death is worth something. Give me the Hammer of Dawn. You have two days," said Katia.

The guards dragged Carl out of the room leaving a disturbing trail of blood behind them. Baird turned back to his desk and rested his head in his hands. He could feel the blood drying stickily on his face. On auto-pilot he moved to one of the lab sinks and turned on the tap, letting the water wash away the blood on his hands and then splashing water on his face. He felt slow and as if everything that had happened was happening to someone else. He wanted this all to stop and for it all to be over.

It was time to step up his plan. He didn't have the luxury of time to do this properly. He had to get out of here before Katia decided to kill someone else, or turn him into an impotent zombie like Carl. He moved back to his workspace and threw himself into some new calculations for the Hammer of Dawn. This had to work. It was all he had left.

* * *

Marcus discharged himself from the medical centre AMA, which stood for "against medical advice". He also discharged himself AAO or "against Anya's orders". One of those was proving to be causing him a lot more trouble than the other. Hayman had nothing on an angry Anya who felt that Marcus was being totally idiotic and had apparently lost any kind of self-preservation instinct that he'd ever had. Six days had passed since the boat attack and he wasn't lying around any longer. He still felt like crap, but the painkillers were doing their job and so were the antibiotics. He was covered in bandages but that wasn't going to stop him leading the mission to take down the Ostri.

Sam found him in the armoury. On Azura, they'd made use of brick tunnels under the main buildings for ammo storage. There was plenty of room and the areas were dry and free of fire risks.

"Is this a private party or can anyone join in?" Sam asked. She looked equally battered herself and had her own bandages covering the worst of the damage.

Marcus grunted an acknowledgement as he located the frag grenades.

"You're not cleared for duty yet," said Marcus, well aware of how hypocritical that was, but choosing to ignore his own flaunting of the same lack of clearance.

"Screw you," said Sam, predictably. "You know that I'm not letting you go without me. Those fuckers have either got my boyfriend or they're the ones that killed him."

Rather unexpectedly at that moment they were joined by Alex Brand, who sauntered under the dark archway of brick.

"Did someone say that there's a princess that needs saving?" asked the red head. "I'd be happy to lend my gun to that cause if it means that I get to blow the head off that traitor Keller."

"Really?" asked Sam, a little incredulously. "You two seemed to be getting on so well when you were making up charges to get Baird executed."

Alex gave Sam a cold look. "Fine, Byrne, crow all you want, but he took me for a ride. He took my grief over my squad and poisoned me with it. He kept telling me that I couldn't trust any of you and I wanted to believe him because Baird was such an asshole. I was wrong. Happy now?"

Sam was half-way towards Alex with her fists ready and a "you bitch!" on her lips, but Marcus stepped between them. Sam contented herself with giving Alex a look of death, because the solid hand of Marcus Fenix was firmly pushing on her chest plate armour.

"That's not an apology," spat Sam. "You put him in a cell and accused him of being a spy. You let your men beat him!"

"I know what I did," said Alex. "But I said that I was wrong. What more do you want?"

Sam let out a frustrated grunt of anger and turned away to collect her own ordnance. She turned back for a second to add, "an apology would be a start, and maybe not calling my boyfriend an asshole. You can't blame it all on Keller."

"I know," said Alex, "but he was feeding us all lies, or at least making sure that we put the worst possible spin on stuff. He was constantly reminding us that Baird was the only one with expertise to bring that chopper down. I didn't think much about it at the time, but he asked to join my squad when we left Anvil Gate. I had to persuade all the others to come, but he actually asked. You're right though, I owe Baird an apology. So we'd best go and find him so that I give it to his ugly face in person."

"When you're quite done," said Marcus, with more than a little sarcasm in his tone. "Some of us have got a mission to prepare for. Since apparently I'm stuck with both of you, you can report to the dock in one hour. Try not to kill each other before then."

Marcus grabbed the rest of his supplies and exited the armoury before the two women could start a new round of arguing.


	26. Chapter 26

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Warning in this chapter for torture and also Baird swears a lot. This story is pretty dark at this point, but Ostri isn't a fun place for a holiday as Baird and Cole are finding out.

* * *

Baird's two days of grace to give Katia results had gone quickly. Too quickly. Today he was enacting the last part of the plan. He needed to get to a part of the castle that he was rarely allowed to see and complete the final touches. He'd managed to slip away from his guards for a few minutes, knowing that they'd find him again pretty quickly, but a few minutes were all he needed. He shoved the makeshift device into a crevice in the wall and then headed away from its position as quickly as he could. If they found it now, then he'd be completely done for. Katia would probably just kill him and Cole.

He ran across the open grass, dodging inside and down a corridor, where he came face to face with a group of guards. He turned to go back the other way, but found that way blocked too.

"Crap," he said, and did the only other thing that he could. He took a swing at the first guard that came at him. It connected with a satisfying crunch. Unfortunately the other guards took exception to this and Baird soon found himself on the ground, trying to protect himself from kicks and punches.

"Enough," shouted the familiar and loathsome voice of Keller. "Take him to his cell. The Commander will decide what she wants done with him."

Baird was fairly certain that he'd have been dead if they'd continued much longer. This wasn't how he'd intended for it to go. He'd planned to sneak back to the lab so that when they noticed he was gone, he'd be where he was supposed to be. The guards pulled him up off the ground; his head was spinning and his ribs ached from the abuse. They didn't give him time to get his legs under him, so his feet scrapped against the ground as they dragged him along the corridors. They stopped outside his cell, unlocked the door and then threw him inside, locking it back up behind him.

Baird managed to pull himself up and onto the bed so that he didn't have to lie on the cold floor. At least it was more comfortable. He swore quietly as he discovered all the new bruises that his captors had inflicted and what could be a cracked rib. It was only a few minutes before the door was wrenched open again and Katia came in. She was probably the last person that he wanted to see right now.

She strode over to the bed, put a knee on his chest and hand to his throat, then she leaned down. Baird did his best to grab her hand to prevent her from choking him, but she had gravity on her side and he was aching from the beating. He tried to move nonetheless and heard the ominous click of a gun being cocked by his head. He could just see Keller out of the corner of his eye, standing there with a Boltok pointed in Baird's direction.

"What were you doing?" she asked, menace behind every word.

"Nothing," he croaked out.

"Try again," she said.

"I needed a piss," he replied with as much flippancy as he could manage under the current circumstances.

Katia pressed down on his windpipe and he found himself gasping for breath. She let up just enough to give him the air he needed to reply.

"Last chance. What were you doing?"

"Looking for Cole," he ground out. It wasn't true, but it was believable.

Katia finally released the pressure from his neck and chest. She turned to Keller. Baird gasped for air and tried to push himself back up to a sitting position where he was less vulnerable.

"Take him to the medical labs. I've had enough of his stalling. Tell them he's there for punishment and to use the usual regime. Then check his workspace and make sure there's nothing there that shouldn't be."

"What?" shouted Baird. "I was coming back."

They dragged the struggling mechanic to his feet. He was not going to let them take him to the medical lab without a fight. He had a very good idea of what went on in there. He got in a couple of good punches before they just pulled his arms behind him and overwhelmed him with their numbers. He wasn't going to give up, even as they pulled him along down the hallway and bundled him through the doors into the medical lab.

There was the sharp tang of blood in the air as one of his guards shouted for a gurney. He was struggling as hard as he could, but it wasn't getting him anything other than to make him tired. They lifted Baird bodily onto the padded gurney that appeared and strapped him down at the wrists and ankles, and then with second straps across his thighs and upper arms.

"Get your fucking hands off me," he swore at the guards and orderlies. He pulled at the restraints as they wheeled him past the doors to what could only loosely be called "treatment rooms". Occasionally a door would open and the sounds of screaming or moaning could be heard. This place was like one of the lower circles of hell, and Baird was frantic as they pushed him into his own soundproofed room. The white tiled walls and floor were clinical, easily hosed down, and the dark red stains around the drain in the floor did nothing to make Baird feel better about his situation.

Keller was speaking to one of the white coated officiators of the torture chamber. Baird wasn't going to describe the man as a doctor, since doctors were supposed to make people better.

"She wants him punished, Jannerman," said Keller. "Usual regime."

"Fuck you," said Baird.

"Noisy, isn't he," said Jannerman in heavily accented Tyran. He picked up a pair of scissors from a metal tray and approached Baird. The Gear couldn't move, even though he tried to squirm away from the approaching blades, however all the doctor did was cut away the t-shirt that he was wearing, leaving Baird bare chested.

"I expect he'll get more noisy," said Keller.

"What the fuck is wrong with you people?" asked Baird. "You let that bitch order you around?"

"Why wouldn't I, when she gives me such interesting gifts?" asked Jannerman, hooking a bag of liquid up to an IV stand. "For example, I've never tried this with someone who has a history of epilepsy. Let's hope it doesn't react badly with your medication."

He pulled a strap around Baird's upper arm and then tapped the skin, looking for a vein.

"If you kill me then you know she'll put you in here next," Baird tried.

"I'm sure she would if she thought she could find someone else to produce the drugs that she needs," replied Jannerman. "But like you, I'm not expendable. Then again, clearly she doesn't care what happens to you too much, or else she wouldn't have sent you to me. She knows that there's always some risk involved with my methods."

There was a sharp prick and Baird felt the needle pierce his arm. The doctor deftly taped it down. He tried to wriggle enough to dislodge it, but apparently the doctor was used to unwilling patients. The IV was already running and now being inserted into the port.

"How bad has he been?" asked Jannerman, with a finger on the valve that controlled the rate the drug dripped down the line.

Keller smirked. "Very."

Jannerman raised an eyebrow, but opened the valve with several rapid clicks.

"What is that stuff?" asked Baird, failing to keep the hysteria out of his voice.

"Something I cooked up myself," said Jannerman. "I'm told it produces interesting hallucinations, but its main purpose is pain."

"Shit," said Baird. His heart was already racing. Then the drug hit his bloodstream and it was like being on fire. He went rigid as the sensation wove its way across his body.

"There we go," said Jannerman.

"Shit, shit, shit," swore Baird, wanting to get the words out, wanting to curse out his captors for what they were doing, because it was all he had at the moment. Even talking was getting to be an effort. "When I get out of here… when I get out of here… I'm coming for you… I'm coming for all of you."

"If it's any consolation, the pain does lessen after a couple of hours, but by then the hallucinations should be well under way," said Jannerman.

"Screw you, you sick, psychopathic bastard," spat Baird with as much venom as he could muster.

He could feel sweat breaking out across his skin as the pain built to unacceptable levels and he tried to find a way to deal with it. He was no stranger to pain, but he'd never felt anything like this. Keller was watching him with a twisted fascination and he didn't want to give him the satisfaction of screaming, but every single limb was burning from the inside out now. The room was swimming and distorting as reality began to tilt sideways and compress. The drug was getting into his tissue and making every breath pure agony. The very air hurt as it passed in and out of his body in short, sharp pants.

The pain built quickly until it was unbearable. He gritted his teeth, but there was nothing that he could do about what was happening to him. He tried to push the pain out of his head, but there was nowhere for it to go. There was only the pain and it was everywhere.

He gave in. He had no choice. It wasn't him in control anymore. There wasn't anything left of Damon Baird. There was just agony.

He screamed.

* * *

Marcus was in command of thirty men, deployed across three boats. Azura didn't have any large boats anymore, just smaller trawlers and fishing vessels. Every boat represented an asset that couldn't easily be replaced, and the loss of the Fair Weather was felt keenly. However, they only had one working helicopter and boats were easier to be stealthy in than helicopters. The single working Raven was now also extremely valuable, but they'd call it in when they'd lost the element of surprise, and it would be ready and waiting for their call. Anya had guaranteed it personally.

Their official mission was to take out the Commander of the enemy forces, even though they didn't know what he looked like or if he even existed. But they were also tasked with bringing Keller back for trial and probably execution. Unofficially, they would free the prisoners if they could. But none of that was why Marcus was here, and it wasn't why Sam had been so insistent on coming. They were here to retrieve their MIA squad members.

They were coming in under the cover of the dusk of evening, which would turn into the dark of night, and give them the best chance to take down the Ostrians. Working from a combination of satellite images, plans and Baird's ideas for how to attack the castle, Marcus had put together a reasonable battle strategy. He'd have been a lot happier if he knew where either Baird or Cole were, because he definitely didn't believe that they were dead, but he didn't want them to get caught in the crossfire.

He'd split the group into three and put Sam in charge of one of the groups, with Clay Carmine taking another, leaving Marcus to command the final third. Sam and Carmine were the two people that he trusted the most at the moment. Strictly speaking, Alex Brand outranked both of his chosen deputies but despite her earlier words, he couldn't shake the feeling that if she was the one to find Baird, she'd just put a bullet in his head and be done with it. However, he was aware that she hadn't enjoyed being duped into helping the Ostrians by Keller, so perhaps he was being a little hard on her. Daniel Carmine had insisted on coming with them too, just in case they needed a translator, which was certainly a possibility. Clay hadn't been happy about that, but after a brief argument with his brother, apparently the two brothers had come to an understanding. Daniel was back to full fitness, and quite capable of handling a gun and himself, so Marcus had no issues with him tagging along.

The boats neared the shore, dimmed their lights and cut their engines. There was a bay which Marcus knew well and it was this that they were aiming for. They should be able to moor the boats here and keep them hidden long enough to make their assault on the castle. They used paddles and momentum to get them close enough to the shore that they could moor up.

Marcus jumped down into the water, landing ankle deep in cold, saltwater. His boots rapidly became sodden, but he wasn't going to allow that to bother him now. He and the rest of his team scrambled up the shore, pulling the boat with them so that they could find a suitable place to tie it up and it wouldn't float away. The splashing of booted feet in water was jarringly loud in this quiet location, and they could only hope that there was no one patrolling nearby to hear them. They found a suitable rock to tie the boat to and then headed quickly into the tree line, with a few stumbles on the rough terrain due to the darkness around them. The darkness felt like it had an extra thick quality about it here, it seeped and leaked around the trees, robbing them of their sight. Perhaps it had something to do with these woods, this was an area of forestation that was probably more ancient than human inhabitancy of Sera.

They'd all been issued with flashlights, but not to light their way. Sam and Carmine both dimly signalled their readiness to move up from the beach with a single flash of their lights, and in silence, Marcus gave them the signal to move out with his own light. He stowed the flashlight in his belt pouch, returning both hands to his gun. A Gear would always be happiest with both hands on his gun, and the lights on his armour were enough to illuminate the area immediately around him and stop friendly fire incidents.

They moved through the trees, trying to avoid tripping on branches. The three groups split up and headed through the woods on different routes. Marcus' group were in the centre, and he could glimpse both Carmine's squad and Sam's on either side of him. They moved cautiously but rapidly, running from one tree to the next. They could lose the element of surprise at any moment and they needed to get as close to the castle as possible.

Suddenly Marcus heard voices up ahead and he signalled for his group to stop. Carmine and Sam caught the noise too and came to a halt. Marcus met Sam's eye and indicated that she should take her group right and flank. It took her a few minutes to get into position and then, very quietly, her team dealt silently with the threat. There had been a patrol of five Soldiers of the Nation of Ostri, but now there were only five dead bodies with their throats cut. It wasn't how Marcus really liked doing things, but they couldn't be detected now if they wanted to accomplish their mission.

Marcus gave Sam and her squad a nod of a job well done and indicated that they should move out. Again they moved up through the trees. Speed was important now. They had no idea when the patrol group would be missed, and it could be very soon. They kept going, up the slope of the hill that the castle was perched on and encountered no further resistance. Finally, they stood looking up at the walls of Fort Kirnheim, a Silver Age fortress that had stood where it was for hundreds of years. The walls were high and made of quarried stones that had taken several men to shift with ropes and pulleys into place. It was a solid structure in every sense of the word. Even the grubs hadn't managed to take it down.

Thirty COG Gears were about to do what the Locust couldn't.

* * *

Things never went according to plan. That was just life in the COG and it hadn't been any different for Cole in recent months. He found himself plucked out of the mines late in the evening, at gun point, by a guard detail that had clearly been sent to fetch him. They cuffed him and marched him back up to the castle and towards the area where he knew the labs were. Katia was waiting for him there, and Cole's senses snapped to high alert the moment he saw her.

He was ushered into a room that looked like it should have been a hospital, but it definitely wasn't. The area was scrupulously clean and white, with medical equipment placed along the corridor. The space was divided into small rooms with large glass observation windows onto the corridor. In almost every room, there were people strapped to beds. A lot of them appeared to be in pain, and some of them were screaming, but couldn't be heard due to the sound proofing of the rooms. Many of them appeared to be having medical procedures performed, apparently without anaesthetic.

"There is always a price to advancing our nation," said Katia.

Cole couldn't help himself, he turned, ready to attack the guards that he was with. There were more of them than him and his leg was still weak. It only took two guards to subdue him and pin his arms behind his back.

Cole struggled against the men holding him. "You're sick. You're torturing them."

"Yes, it does work out that way some times, but the knowledge we gain is quite priceless, normally," said Katia.

Cole didn't like where this was going and he had no idea why Katia was showing him this place - unless he was about to join the ranks of medical experiments. In fact, what she had planned for him was worse. He caught sight of the final room on the right hand side and something icy gripped his heart.

"No," he whispered. He put all his strength into struggling against his captors. "You sick, bitch. You let him go!"

In the last room was Baird, stripped to the waist and strapped down by his arms, wrists and ankles on a medical gurney. His chest heaved and sweat poured from his body as he twisted against the restraints. Cole could see an IV line was stuck into a vein in his left arm and heavily taped in place so that no amount of thrashing would pull it out. A bag of clear fluid dripped down the tubing and into Baird. Cole doubted that there was anything good in it.

"I wish I could free him, but he hasn't been terribly co-operative. I even threatened your life and that definitely got him to at least pretend to work, but he's been a bad boy, so this is his punishment," said Katia.

"Stop it," said Cole, still trying his utmost to get free. He heard someone cock a gun.

"If you want to live to see another day, then you will stop your struggling," said Keller.

Cole froze. He was no good to Baird if he was dead. He composed himself enough that he could speak and asked the question that he knew he didn't want answered, but at the same time had to know.

"What are you doing to him?"

"Why don't you ask him?" suggested Katia. She typed in a code on the keypad beside the door, then opened it and for the first time, Cole could hear Baird's groans and whimpers of pain. "Well, at least he's stopped screaming now."

Cole gritted his teeth and said nothing. Losing it now wasn't going to help his friend. He stepped through the door, shaking off one of the guards, but still with several guns trained on him.

"Baird," said Cole, approaching the gurney.

His friend turned pain filled and confused eyes towards him.

"Cole?" asked Baird, his voice was rough. Cole's mind immediately returned to Katia's words about screaming. Baird's voice was rough because he'd been screaming in pain.

"Yeah, baby," said Cole. "It's me."

"Get them off me," pleaded Baird. "Please, just get them off me."

"Get what off you?" asked Cole.

"They're all over me. They bite. Insects," said Baird, sounding slightly hysterical. There were tears in his bloodshot eyes. "Please, they're eating me alive."

"It's not real, baby, it's the drugs they're pumping into you," said Cole. He turned back to Katia. "You bastards. You stop this, right now!"

"Only if you persuade him to give me what I want," said Katia.

Cole looked at Baird. His wrists were rubbed red raw from pulling against the restraints. He had no idea how long they'd been doing this to him, but it looked like it had been several hours. He couldn't let them keep doing this to his friend.

"Okay. I'll do it. Just let him go."

"I thought you might say that," said Katia. She moved to the IV, took off the tape and then removed the needle from Baird's arm.

Cole allowed himself a sigh of relief. An orderly came in to take away the vile substance that was causing Baird so much pain and the stand it had been hung on.

"You can tend to your friend," said Katia. "I should probably explain that it's a hallucinogen so you may want to be careful as it leaves his system. That can take up to a day, by the way. Who knows what he might see? Oh and it didn't mix well with his seizure medication, so it wouldn't surprise me if he has a seizure before we can get him back on it again. Just don't let him choke on his own vomit. After all, I would prefer not to kill him."

"Really? You could have fooled me," said Cole, tersely, as his cuffs were taken off.

"If he continues to refuse to work with us then I'll have to look at other methods of gaining his co-operation. I've developed ways of making people compliant, but it does have certain side effects. He has such an interesting personality, and I'm sure that's where a lot of his creativity comes from, but it certainly isn't necessary for us to use the knowledge that he possesses," said Katia.

"You'd destroy who he is?" asked Cole. "Turn him into one of those mindless zombies that you've got wandering around." He'd seen a couple of people in the mine that apparently Katia had decided were useful enough to keep around, but didn't need to be quite as able to talk back as they had been. The mining foreman was one of them. Someone in authority told him what to do and he did it, without question, no matter what it was.

"If I have to, but honestly, I'd rather not," said Katia. "Just as I'd prefer that you don't end up replacing him in this room - which is another option if he continues to disobey. I would suggest that you bear in mind that his technical knowledge is more useful to me than your manpower, but I shudder to think what might happen to him if you were to die. There would be no one to plead with me for his sanity or life. You might want to explain that to him."

"Screw you," said Cole, but his main concern was Baird who was still writhing in the restraints.

"If only," said Katia. "Maybe another day. You have your friend to take care of. Lock them in. I think we can let them have a few hours off."

The guards and Katia left. Cole heard the door being locked behind them, but he was too preoccupied with undoing the restraints around Baird's arms and legs. The vein which the IV needle had been in was a long, red and angry line down his friend's arm. The needle had left a large red mark too, however more concerning was that Baird's wrists had been badly abraded by the restraints. Blood had slicked the leather straps and made the buckles difficult to undo. Cole could see other bruises and cut across Baird's chest, probably from earlier attempts to keep him in line, and their initial capture and torture.

Cole got the final buckle free, and as soon as Baird could move he sat up and began scrubbing at his skin, trying to get rid of the non-existent insects crawling across his skin. He'd scrape his own skin off if this continued and scratching was just making things worse not better. He was already drawing blood with his nails. Cole grabbed his hands.

"Stop it, Baird, there's nothing there," said Cole.

Baird tried to shake Cole free and he wondered if he even knew what was happening. He did the only thing that he could think of and pulled the still struggling Baird off the gurney, towards the corner of the room.

"Baird, it's Cole. There's nothing on you, baby," said Cole. "There's nothing there. You hear me? It's all in your head, but it's okay, I've got you now."

Baird wasn't answering. He was still putting the small amounts of energy that he had left into his attempts to free himself from Cole's grip so that he could scratch, and hadn't seemed to understand Cole's words.

Cole backed himself into the corner of the room and then slid his back down the wall, pulling Baird down with him. Baird was clearly exhausted so he barely resisted. Cole positioned Baird so that his friend had his back to his chest. Then he wrapped his arms around him, holding a wrist in each hand so that they were held tight against Baird's body. It was like a reverse bear hug, but it seemed to work. Even though Baird was weakened by his ordeal and simply didn't have the strength left to fight him properly, he still pulled against Cole's hands as he desperately tried to get rid of the insects his mind was telling him were there. But Cole was strong and he wasn't going to let Baird make this worse than it already was.

"Cole, let go of me," said Baird, sounding pitifully weak and desperate. "Please, you've got to get them off. Please. Don't make me beg, Cole."

"Sorry, baby," said Cole. "You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. You're going to scratch yourself raw if you keep going. This is for your own good."

Cole felt Baird rest his head back against his chest with a thud, and then Baird's body began to shudder. At first he thought it was a seizure, but then he realised that Baird was sobbing. Cole had never seen Baird cry properly, not until today. He'd certainly never seen him sob his heart out, which was what he was doing now.

Cole just held him tighter. He felt wetness seep into his t-shirt from Baird's tears as his friend cried because he just didn't have anything left to deal with what was happening except tears. He really hated this and when they got out of this, because _they were going to get out of this_, then he was going to visit the wrath of hell upon the people who had done this to his friend.

"It'll be okay. It's the drugs," said Cole. "They've stopped pumping that shit into your veins. You've just got to let it get out of your system."

Baird gave a feeble nod. Then there was a pause. "Cole, are you really here?"

"Yeah, in the flesh," said Cole. Katia had said that the drug was a hallucinogen so who knew what Baird had been seeing.

"Don't die again, okay," said Baird, his voice nearly breaking.

"I'm not planning on it," said Cole. "Again?"

"Saw you die," said Baird. "Twice. There was blood…"

He twitched again, still desperately trying to scratch at whatever his imagination was telling him was causing the sensation of crawling in his skin. Cole continued to hold him, firmly, but as gently as he could manage. They sat in silence for a while like that, perhaps even an hour, with Baird breathing harshly, his heart beating quickly. The sobbing subsided, probably because Baird had run out of tears and energy. The twitching and his reflexive need to scratch were lessening.

"We need to get out of here," whispered Baird, in broken, anxious, hitching words, directed down at his chest. "They want me to give them the Hammer of Dawn, and I won't do that. They're going to torture us, until I either crack, go insane, or die. Option three is sounding pretty attractive right now."

"Don't you say that. We're going to get out of here," said Cole.

"Odds are against us," said Baird, weakly, and with more defeat in his voice than Cole had ever heard before.

"Yeah, I know, but we just need a plan," Cole, whispered back, shielding his lips with a shoulder and Baird's head. They had to assume that there were both cameras and listening devices in this room. "Marcus will come get us."

"Marcus is dead," breathed Baird.

"I thought that once before," said Cole. "But hey, I found Sofia. They brought her here."

"Sofia?" asked Baird, as if he was trying to place the name.

"Yeah, you remember Paduk telling us about how she'd been captured by some Gears? They weren't real Gears. They were working for Katia, pulling in people to work in the mines."

Baird shuddered again, but nodded. "She okay?"

"Yeah, and she's ready to get out of here when we are."

"I got caught working on something," said Baird. "Might still work. Do you know what time it is?"

Then Cole felt Baird go rigid in his arms. "Baird?"

A second later he realised that this was the expected seizure. Baird hadn't been able to sleep and they'd taken away his epilepsy medication, this was inevitable. He laid his friend out on the floor and waited for it to pass, grabbing the thin mattress from the gurney to put under Baird's head. When it was over, Cole simply picked his unconscious friend up from the ground and resumed his previous position. Unlike normal, Baird wasn't coming round quickly, which worried Cole, but he'd hold Baird, guard him, and he was damned if they were going to take him from him without a fight.

About ten minutes later, when the very foundations of the building that they were in shook, Cole realised why Baird might have wanted to know the time.


	27. Chapter 27

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: Wow, I hit 100 reviews! Thanks guys. We're getting towards the end of this story now. I never intended for it to be quite this long, but Baird had other ideas.

* * *

Sam definitely hadn't expected the explosion that rocked the walls in front of her and her squad. She was even more surprised to see the heavens open and the beam of the Hammer of Dawn slice through the dark of the night and slam into the ground of the castle in front of them.

"Fuck me sideways, the bastard's definitely still alive," she said, with a smile. Then she turned to look for Marcus. "Hey!" she shouted, jogging up beside her lieutenant. The noise of the explosions masked any sound that she could make. "There's only one person who could call down the Hammer of Dawn."

Marcus had clearly also come to the same conclusion. "Yeah, Baird. He just did half our work for us." He was looking up at the fixed gun emplacements on the walls. One by one they were exploding in small choking fireballs of black smoke. They could hear the sounds of the castle garrison's troops quickly becoming disarrayed and chaotic. There was running, shouting and screaming as fires broke out and the Hammer of Dawn killed anyone in its path indiscriminately.

"How did he know we were coming?"

"Maybe he didn't," said Marcus. "He and Cole weren't going to sit around and do nothing. Take five of your squad and start looking for them. The rest of us will deal with the Commander and any of the "Soldiers of the Nation of Ostri" that get in our way, then we'll head for the mine that Daniel Carmine told us about and see if we can free the prisoners there." Marcus spat the words "Soldiers of the Nation of Ostri" with disdain, clearly not counting them as a real army.

Sam nodded, and called out the names of five of her squad. "With me. We're going to look for our boys."

There was a large hole in the wall in front of them now. The Hammer of Dawn was still firing intermittently, but the satellite would probably be passing over the horizon soon and another one wouldn't rise for some time. There were so few working satellites that Baird must have just got lucky with the targeting for this one. Then again maybe he'd been aiming at the wall.

She looked around for someone to grab and ask about where important prisoners might be kept. Many of the enemy were already dead or wounded. She indicated to her squad to find her someone to question and not to shoot them first. It took a little bit of doing but finally they came across a slightly singed soldier, wearing the uniform of Ostri. Her squad didn't see the need to be gentle with him and neither did she. They located a door in the castle and pushed their prisoner through it. He landed hard on the ground and was then pulled struggling to his feet and pushed up against the nearest wall.

Inside the castle, things were quieter, with fewer sounds of screaming and exploding to distract their prisoner from the questions that they needed to ask.

"We're looking for the two Gears you grabbed last week. Where do you hold prisoners around here?"

Daniel Carmine translated it, and the scared looking soldier said something in a terrified tone.

"He doesn't know. Mostly people get sent to the mines," said Daniel.

Sam shook her head. "Nah, they didn't grab Baird so that he could work in a mine. Ask him where they put the smart ones."

Daniel did and elicited a new answer. He asked a second question, clearly not liking the answer. The soldier seemed more scared of what he was saying than of Daniel and the rest of the Gears with guns. The conversation continued for several minutes as Daniel probed for more information.

"He says that there are the labs. There's an engineering lab that seems the best bet to try, but he also just told me that there are medical labs where they experiment on human subjects. He heard that the Commander got angry with one of the prisoners this afternoon and sent him to the medical lab for punishment."

Sam felt her heart drop into her stomach. Baird was good at making people angry, she'd even go so far as to say that he had a gift for it. They couldn't have gotten this close only for Baird to be dead, but then punishment wasn't execution, so he still had to be alive. However being sent to the medical lab didn't sound like it was good either. She needed to prepare herself for finding an injured Baird, and that wasn't an easy thing to contemplate.

"Where are the labs?" she asked, showing no outward signs that she was worried about what this information meant.

Daniel translated the question and received a series of directions.

"That way," he said, nodding down the corridor.

"What shall we do with him?" asked Private Bell, one of her squad.

"Take his weapons and leave him," said Sam. "We don't have time to take prisoners and I don't think he's much of a threat."

Bell nodded and gave the Ostrian a final search, before punching him in the face. He staggered backwards and fell to the floor, looking like it would be a while before he made it to upright again. It would have put a smile on Sam's face, but she was too worried about Baird.

They set off down the corridor at a jog, taking out any pockets of resistance that they found as they went and following Daniel's directions. The noise of explosions and shouting could still be heard coming from the castle courtyard and she wondered how long they had before the Hammer of Dawn satellite passed overhead. It had to be minutes at most.

"There," said Daniel, pointing at a door that had the universal red cross of a medical establishment emblazoned on it.

For once, Sam wasn't enthused by the idea of medical aid. She took a deep breath, and kicked the door in, with her squad less than a step behind her. She was confident that they'd have her back. Inside she found a tiled, white corridor with rooms down either side. The air smelt of blood. It was a smell that she recognised from the field hospitals and the Medical Centre in the days after they took Azura. She could see people in white coats in the corridor and some of the rooms had people inside them, strapped to gurneys. She grabbed the nearest guy in a white coat, and threw him against the closest wall with her lancer pointed at his head.

"You have a man called Baird here. Where is he?"

The man replied in Ostrian.

"What did he say?"

"He says he doesn't understand you," replied Daniel. "I'll ask him."

Sam didn't let up on her grip as Daniel said something in Ostrian and then the man replied.

"He says they brought a new prisoner in for punishment this afternoon. He's in the last room on the right."

"Private Bell, round the civvies up and do what you can for the prisoners," said Sam.

Then she let go of the Ostrian without another word and strode down the corridor, lancer cradled in her arms, ready to take on anyone who got in her way. No one was stupid enough to try anything, and she reached the last door on the right unimpeded. She looked through the window and was met by the sight of Cole, readying himself for a fight with the broken leg of a chair for a weapon. Cole was bare chested and Baird lay on a thin mattress on the floor behind his friend with his back to the door. Cole lowered his weapon when he saw Sam and said something, but she couldn't hear him through the closed door.

She tried the handle but found that the door was locked. She indicated for Cole to stand back, revved up her chainsaw and took it to the door lock. It didn't take much to turn it into splinters. She kicked the door, to free it from the remains of the lock and stepped through its broken remains.

Cole whooped. "Damn it, are you a sight for sore eyes. We need to get Baird out of here yesterday."

He took a step back and now Sam could get a good look at Baird. He lay on the floor shivering. He was wearing a t-shirt that was a size too big for him, which explained Cole's bare chest, but it didn't seem to be helping keep him warm. She could see red marks and bruises on his arms and face, ligature marks around his wrists, and his eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red. His skin was pale and he looked terrible, moving restlessly as if he couldn't get comfortable.

"Shit. Oh my god," she wasn't ashamed that she ran to him, and knelt on the floor beside him. "What did they do to you?"

Baird turned towards the sound of her voice. "Sam?" He squinted at her, his voice sounding rough and raw. "Sam?" he asked again. "Tell me you're not real." He sent out a desperate questing hand towards her arm and caught it. His eyes darted around her face, almost as if he wasn't really seeing her.

"I'm real, Damon, I'm real," she replied, not really understanding why he was asking, but trying to meet his eyes and reassure him.

Baird shook his head. "No, you can't be here. You can't. If they got you too…" There were tears beginning in his eyes and she'd never seen Baird cry over anything. He didn't cry, he just didn't, and it suddenly brought home to her that something was very wrong. Some terrible things had definitely happened here and Baird was struggling to just keep himself together, stripped bare to his soul.

"Hey, no, it's okay," she put her lancer down and pulled him into her arms, dragging him up from the floor desperately so that she could hold him. He hardly had the strength to even help. His skin was warmer than it should have been and she wondered if he was starting a fever. "I'm here with Marcus and a strike force. We came to get you out of here."

She looked across to Cole over Baird's shoulder, searching his face for some answers. Baird clung to her, shaking, but not letting go.

"They drugged him and he had a seizure," said Cole, his eyes meeting hers and letting her know not to ask further.

Sam knew that there was more to it, but it was enough of an explanation for now. She'd get the rest once they were somewhere safe. Somewhere that wasn't here. Baird was doing his best to get into a proper sitting position rather than the half lean that she'd pulled him into, but the jittery shaking wasn't making it easy and she could tell that he was in pain. They didn't have time to sit around here and discuss things.

"We need to get you out of here. Can you walk?"

Baird nodded and croaked out. "Yeah, just help me up. The drugs they gave me are messing with my vision."

Cole sighed. "What he means is that he's seeing stuff."

Sam bit down on asking for clarification, and decided again that answers could wait. Baird tried to glare at Cole, but the shivering and inability to focus meant that it was a failed attempt. He gave up with a shake of his head, almost falling sideways again. Sam stopped him from tilting sideways in a gesture that she was well practised at.

"I just need to get it out of my system," Baird said.

"Yeah," agreed Cole, although he didn't sound convinced.

He came over beside them, and between the two of them, they got Baird to his feet. They positioned themselves one on either side, supporting him with a shoulder under each arm. Sam realised very quickly that Baird's assertion that he could walk was at best bravado and at worst wishful thinking. He could barely put one foot in front of the other and he kept trying to move around things that weren't there. They got him out of the door of the room that she'd found him in and he was already breathing heavily. This was going to be hard work, especially because she'd just realised that Cole was limping too.

Daniel Carmine was waiting for them as they stepped out of what she was beginning to realise was a torture chamber. He greeted Cole with a "hey, man" and a slap on the back, and then offered to take Sam's spot helping Baird, but now that she'd got him back, she couldn't hand her boyfriend off to someone else, so she declined. Private Bell had cleared the area and rounded up the doctors and orderlies who had been in the corridor and rooms.

"Corporal Byrne, what are we going to do with this lot?" he asked and indicated the prisoners.

"Kill them," suggested Baird, and it didn't sound like he was joking. His broken voice didn't carry far enough for Bell to hear it, but Sam and Cole both did.

Sam spoke up before Baird could say it more loudly. "Tie them up and leave them somewhere secure. We'll come back for them when we have time."

Bell gave her a nod of acknowledgement and went to do as she asked.

"The others," said Baird.

"What others?" asked Cole.

"The other people they had… here. I heard some of them screaming. If they can't be saved then someone should put a bullet in their head. It'd be better, believe me," said Baird, his teeth chattering between words.

Sam exchanged a glance with Cole, and Cole looked over to Daniel. Daniel had experienced the Ostrians hospitality himself and she wasn't surprised that his eyes let her know that he agreed with Baird's assessment.

"If you can hold him, I'll see to it," said Cole.

Daniel nodded, but Sam hesitated, because she really wasn't sure about the idea of euthanizing the experimental subjects, no matter how badly they'd been treated.

"Hang on, I don't think that's a decision we should be making."

"With respect, Sam, you don't know what they were doing to people here," said Cole. "Baird's right. If we can't save these people, then they're better off dead."

"Bloody hell," said Sam.

She really hadn't looked at what had been going on in the other rooms, she'd been too focused on finding Baird. Now that she did glance around her, she realised that clearly some of the people here would almost certainly consider death to be an end to their suffering. Then again she wondered how many of them Dr Hayman might have saved had she been here, but they couldn't get the CMO here for several hours and there wasn't enough transport to get everyone back to Azura. Sam decided that she had no choice.

"Fine, do what you have to, but those doctors did this to them so they have to be able to fix some of it. Maybe use some of that Hannover charm to persuade them to set all of this right," she suggested. "We can take a few extra back to Azura if they're okay to be moved."

Cole gave her a dangerous grin.

"Now you're talking my language. Take Lennox and Rogers and get Baird out of here. I'll catch up with you once we're done here."

Cole carefully extricated himself from under Baird's arm, checking that she could bear his weight on her own for a moment before he moved away and Daniel took his place.

Sam nodded. "Okay, good idea."

"Have you got someone over at the mines?" asked Cole.

"Yeah, Carmine took his squad over there."

"You might want to radio him and tell him to look out for Sofia Hendricks. She was in our squad back in Halvo Bay when we were Kilo, and she got snatched a few months back by these Ostri bitches," said Cole. "She'll be the redhead asking for a lancer. If Carmine knows what's good for him then he should give her one."

Sam hit her radio and relayed the information. Carmine sounded his usual skeptical self, but agreed that he'd look out for Sofia. She and Daniel resumed their trudge out of the medical lab.

"Hey, Bell, you got a spare Snub you can give me?" she heard Cole ask.

Sam wanted to get Baird out of this place. He was too quiet, and she needed to get him somewhere that he could rest and get whatever drugs they'd given him out of his system. He needed medical attention for the cuts and bruises too.

"Where's Marcus?" asked Baird, barely audibly.

"He went after their Commander," said Sam.

"Katia," said Baird, spitting the word like it was a curse.

"Who's Katia?" asked Sam.

"Their Commander," said Baird. "She's a dead woman."

Several thoughts passed through her head and one was that Katia sounded like a very familiar name, but she dismissed it for now. She doubted that Baird wanted to be quizzed further. They made it into the corridor, but not before they heard the distinctive sound of a Snub pistol being fired once, and then twice. It might have been her imagination, but she thought Baird flinched and sagged slightly more against her at each shot.

Sam's radio clicked and she hit the button to answer it. "Byrne, go ahead."

"Have you got Baird and Cole?" asked Marcus' voice.

"Yeah, but Baird's not in good shape. We could really use that Raven evac," said Sam.

"No chance with the Hammer of Dawn in play," said Marcus. "How bad?"

"I don't know," said Sam. "Cole says that they drugged him, but I've got no idea what it was that they used and he's too out of it to ask for details."

"Great. I guess asking the blond genius to shut the Hammer down isn't on the cards then? We can't tell where it's going to hit next and I'd like to get out of here without being burnt to a crisp by our own weapon."

Sam looked at the shaking man that she was supporting and decided that it was worth a try. "Baird, can you shut the Hammer of Dawn down?"

"Get me to the engineering lab," said Baird, in a voice that sounded raw and tired.

"You're kidding me. You can hardly stand and you're hallucinating," said Sam.

"Controller I built is there. Or you can wait ten minutes and it'll shut down on its own," said Baird.

"Did you get that, Marcus?" asked Sam.

"Yeah. How did he get that much satellite time out of the Hammer?" asked Marcus. "Never mind. I'll meet you at the Engineering Lab."

"Copy. Byrne out," replied Sam. "Okay, let's get you to the lab."

They changed direction and lumbered towards where Baird indicated the engineering lab was. Lennox and Rogers cleared the way of any enemy soldiers that crossed their path. They were practically carrying Baird by the time they stumbled through the door, and Sam located a large leather sofa in what appeared to be a break room area off to one side of the main lab. She laid Baird out on it and he curled up onto his side, swatting something out of the way and screwing his eyes shut. She was beginning to think that this was a bad idea and they should just have headed out of the castle as quickly as possible.

"Baird," she began, wanting to offer some kind of comfort but not really knowing how.

She was interrupted by Marcus entering the room. He joined them, took one look at Baird's shaking body and swore.

"Shit. Those bastards deserve everything they got."

"You should have seen the ones we left in the lab. Baird's actually one of the better off ones. I left Cole trying to save the ones he could and putting the others out of their misery," said Sam.

The building shook as the Hammer of Dawn's beam fired again, a little too close for comfort this time.

"Damn it, we need him to shut down the Hammer. We can't move our troops around the castle whilst it's still firing."

"I can hear you," mumbled Baird. "I just can't look at you without seeing stuff crawling across you and the floor. I'd rather just close my eyes if it's all the same to you."

"They drugged him," said Sam, by way of explanation.

Marcus's rather angry look was all the reply she needed to that. Marcus didn't like people messing with his family. Delta was family and Baird was his adopted brother.

"Baird, where's the controller?" asked Marcus. "Tell me where to look and I'll bring it to you."

Baird shook his head. He was still shaking uncontrollably. Marcus shrugged off the jacket that he was wearing and in a display of unusual gentleness he put it around Baird's shoulders. Sam got Baird upright enough that he could put his arms into the sleeves. His eyes were still tightly shut but at least he'd be warmer.

"Who are these guys?" asked Daniel, looking at the scientists that were cowering in a corner of the lab away from the windows.

"Katia's slave labour," said Baird shuddering, but opening his eyes. "Help me get to my work station. Over there."

He gestured in the direction of a stretch of lab bench. He was already trying in an uncoordinated way to get up, so Sam sighed and helped him across the lab. Baird stopped in the middle of the room.

"What's wrong?" asked Marcus.

"There's a serapede." Baird took a step backwards.

"There's nothing there," said Marcus.

"I know," said Baird, staring at a space on the ground with real fear, "but it looks real. It feels real. They gave me something that has me seeing and hearing stuff. I can't… it's playing with my head…"

"Close your eyes again," said Sam. "It helps, right?"

Baird closed his eyes. "Yeah, but… I can't see where I'm going… I'm…"

Sam didn't let him finish. "I'll guide you, and Marcus will shoot anything that looks like it might be a threat."

Baird shuffled forwards, leaning heavily on Sam. "Noise sounds weird too," he added, when he flinched at the sound of Marcus's elbow accidentally hitting a glass beaker. She got him to the workstation and sat him down on the high stool.

"Okay, we're here."

Baird let out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived. He opened his eyes and stiffened immediately.

"I can't tell what's real and what's not anymore. The desk is covered in cockroaches." He made to shift backwards and brush the non-existent insects aside, but Sam stopped him.

"There's nothing on the desk. You just need to rest and get these drugs out of your system."

"I know that, but I also know what I'm seeing."

Marcus stepping in front of him. "Baird, I need you to concentrate on turning off the Hammer of Dawn. You have to focus for long enough to do that and then we can get you out of here and back home. KR Eight-zero will be able to fly in and evac us, but it can't if the Hammer of Dawn might shoot it down."

"Marcus, you're covered in insects," said Baird, his eyes roving across Marcus's face. "They're everywhere."

Sam met Marcus' eyes, behind Baird's back. They both looked worried, and Sam just didn't know how she could help Baird here. He wrapped his arms around his body, shutting his eyes.

"Okay, just tell me where to find the controller," said Sam, putting her hand over his nearest one.

"Bottom drawer," said Baird. "Box with a key pad."

Sam fished out a small grey metal box that had a nine digit code pad screwed on to the top, and three switches on the side. It was wired together to some electronics inside the case, and it looked like it had been thrown together quickly, probably because Baird just hadn't had the time to make it look nice. It also didn't like it was enough to control the Hammer of Dawn, but if Baird said that was what they needed then she believed him.

She handed it to Baird and was about to ask more, but was interrupted by the door to the lab slamming open, and then gun fire. The Soldiers of the Nation of Ostri were apparently trying to take back their castle.

Sam and Marcus both instinctively pulled Baird to the ground and then reached for their lancers. Baird crumpled with a groan, and Sam had to pull him into cover behind a counter. His eyes were still jammed shut, but now he had his hands clamped over his ears. This wasn't her Baird at all. He'd been in hundreds of fire fights and never frozen up or failed to get himself to cover. She wondered if the drugs were doing more than just giving him hallucinations. Perhaps they were messing with his emotions as well. She knew that paranoia was a major side effect of some recreational drugs and she'd seen Gears who were addicts dissolve into helpless wrecks after taking whatever poison they were on. Still, she had to believe that this was only temporary and Baird would be back to his usual annoying self once the drug left his body.

Marcus had himself positioned with his back to a large metal box under the lab bench and was about as safe as he could be in this situation. He was returning fire and picking his moments carefully. On the other side of the lab, Daniel Carmine had made a successful dive behind the large leather sofa and had his Boltok out. Lennox and Rogers had also taken cover and opened fire on the enemy, but it was hard for them to get a bead on the soldiers in the corridor without exposing themselves.

The two sides traded bullets for a few minutes. First Lennox, and then Rogers, were hit, rendering them unable to continue firing, although Sam couldn't tell from her own cover position if they were dead or not. Marcus was looking like he was about to make a desperate run to render aid, which Sam was going to stop if she could. Sam considered lobbing a frag grenade out into the corridor, but in this confined space it could just funnel the resulting explosion back towards them.

"Cease fire," came a shout from the corridor. The voice was female. "I call truce. Give me Baird and we'll let all of you go."

"Not going to happen," shouted Marcus, getting in a fraction before Sam could say something similar but with more profanity.

"Katia," spat out Baird, who had uncovered his ears just in time to hear her words. "No, no, no, no, no," she heard him murmur.

"Lieutenant Fenix, yes?" asked the voice. "My name is Commander Katia Ivo. I have you outnumbered by three to one. I urge you to reconsider my generous offer."

"You tortured my men. I'm not handing Baird back to you so that you can do it again," replied Marcus.

Baird was shaking his head like he was trying to clear his vision. He obviously still wasn't seeing terribly well.

"Sam," he whispered. "There's a box under my workstation. I need it."

Sam frowned but nodded. "Okay, I'll get it, just stay where you are."

It wasn't far away, but if Katia noticed the movement then she'd probably just come in guns blazing. Sam moved as quickly as she dared and pulled the box towards her. Inside she could identify the innards of several large mortar shells. She passed it to Baird, who clumsily bumped against her as he took it from her.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Flashbang," said Baird. "Blind her."

She watched his shaking hands pull together what they needed. He managed almost all of the assembly despite the tremors, but then passed the improvised device to her.

"I can't do the last bit. Might set it off," said Baird.

Sam could see what he was doing and knew that it was just a matter of setting the trigger. She had enough experience with bombs that it wasn't hard for her to finish off what Baird had been doing. What she didn't expect was what he did next.

"Wait for my signal," he whispered and then he was moving. He put a hand on the bench and pulled himself upright, leaving her holding the precariously charged explosives and unable to stop him without risking setting them off accidentally.

"Hey, hold your fire," shouted out Baird, with the strongest voice he could manage. It was gravelly and still rough. "I'm surrendering, but you have to hold up your end of the deal and let my friends go. And if you want the Hammer of Dawn, then don't shoot me." He held his hands up to show that he had the control device but had to place them on the bench again to stop himself from falling over.

"Baird, what are you doing?" ground out Marcus, with his customary annoyance.

Baird ignored him. He edged his way towards Katia, clearly having to steel himself against whatever he was seeing on the bench and floor. He made it around the obstacle so that he stood opposite the open doorway.

"Let them go." Baird wobbled but managed to stay upright. She could see that it was taking all his strength just to stand at all.

"Very well, my love," said Katia. "But you must come to me first."

Sam frowned both at the "my love" and also at whatever this plan was. Then she noticed the glint of metal tucked into the waist band of Baird's trousers at his back, partially hidden by the jacket that Marcus had given him. It looked like the end of the barrel of a Snub pistol. Suddenly realisation hit her and she checked the holster at her hip for her sidearm, swearing under her breath when she found it gone. He'd taken it when he fell against her and she'd thought that it was just him being uncoordinated. Sam was suddenly very conscious of the fact that Baird wasn't wearing any armour, and she knew that he couldn't see straight, or even what was really there. He was ridiculously vulnerable and all she could do was wait for whatever he had in mind to play out.

Katia stepped forwards into the room and was followed by Keller, the traitor. Sam reflexively wanted to shoot him there and then. He'd given Baird into the hands of their enemy and Sam hated him with every fibre of her being. Both had their guns drawn and pointed in Baird's direction.

"You've got me. Now let them go, or you'll never get the codes for the Hammer of Dawn."

"Turn off the Hammer of Dawn and I'll let them go after that," said Katia.

"It's coded. Let them go first." He gestured towards the small box in his hand, making it clear that he had the power here. "That beam is getting closer to us."

Katia indicated for Baird to come closer to her and for her men to remain with their guns trained on the Gears in the engineering lab.

"Give it to me now," said Katia. "The satellite will pass over soon enough."

Baird handed it to her, reluctantly.

Sam could swear that she saw Baird flip one of the switches on the side of the box before he handed it to Katia. Then he put his hand behind his back and gave Sam a thumbs-up sign. This conveniently left his hand near the Snub pistol.

Sam tapped her radio and whispered. "Close your eyes and cover your ears."

Marcus sent her an intrigued look, but did as suggested, and then she lobbed the improvised grenade. Baird pulled the pistol from behind his back and fired in the direction of Katia and Keller just as the grenade hit the ground. Sam turned away just as a white flash of light and a loud bang blinded and deafened anyone who hadn't been ready. When Sam looked back there was smoke and Baird was nowhere to be seen.

"Shit," said Sam. She didn't have time to look for Baird, this was their chance to take out the superior numbers outside the lab. She converged on Marcus's position with Daniel and the three of them thinned out the numbers of attackers, moving forwards down the corridor. Blinded and deafened, the enemy stood very little chance and could only fire in their general direction. The smoke was clearing, as they dealt with the last of the Ostrians, the more sensible ones deciding that retreat was a far better option than facing the three Gears.

"Baird?" shouted Sam. "Damn it. He was just there. Baird?"

Marcus stepped back down the corridor, checking the dead and wounded. "Sam! Here," he shouted.

For a moment Sam thought that Marcus had found Baird, either dead or injured, but this body was dressed in an Ostrian uniform so it wasn't him. As Sam came closer she could identify who it was. Lying in the corridor was Keller, with a bullet wound in the centre of his forehead. A pool of blood was forming behind his head, indicating that the killing shot had only been fired recently.

"That looks like a Snub pistol round to me," said Marcus.

"Agreed," said Sam. "Then where's Baird?"

Her question was answered moments later when there was a groan from underneath the body of another Ostrian soldier. Sam moved rapidly to help pull the body off Baird, who was struggling to move him off so that he could breathe more easily.

"Shit," swore Baird, as Sam helped him to sit up.

"Any new holes?" asked Sam, checking him over by running her hands across his limbs. Ostensibly she was feeling for breaks and bullet wounds, but it was reassuring to be able to put her hands on him and know that he was really there.

"Only the ones I had before," replied Baird.

"Katia's not here," said Marcus, looking at the other fallen Ostrians.

"How far could she have gotten?" said Sam with exasperation.

"She went out the window," said Baird, indicating the broken window closest to the lab door. Sam could see a figure picking herself up from the ground and heading towards the centre of the courtyard at a jog.

There was the rumbling sound of the Hammer of Dawn firing into the ground from outside, except this time it was a lot closer. In fact it was so close that it blew in the rest of the windows in the corridor. Marcus, Baird and Sam dived for cover, to prevent themselves from being cut by the flying glass.

"Oh fuck!" shouted Marcus, as the beam sliced down the corridor, just a few feet away from them. The roof collapsed inwards as the stonework simply evaporated and they scrambled away from the resulting destruction.

"Get back to the lab!" shouted Baird. "It's tracking the control box."

"What?" asked Sam. "Are you telling me that it's tracking Katia?"

"Yeah," said Baird, grimly. "And then I've set the entire system to overload."

"You did what?" asked Marcus.

"Overload. It's pretty much done for anyway. There aren't enough satellites to make it work consistently."

Marcus didn't answer that, he just grabbed Baird and Sam and propelled them upwards and back towards the lab. He shouted for everyone to get back, but Sam couldn't help but watch the Hammer of Dawn beam as it hit the ground again and tracked its quarry to the centre of the courtyard. She and Marcus were supporting a flagging Baird again, but the windows were now just openings out to the courtyard, so they had a ringside seat as Katia looked behind her and saw the beam approach. She tried to run, but no one can outrun something that travels at the speed of light and is locked on to them. The beam hit her dead centre and she didn't even have time to scream as she was burnt to a cinder by the COG's only remaining weapon of mass destruction.

Then the beam seemed to turn back on itself and return to the sky. Above them a massive fireball formed, unfolding like a flower in the upper atmosphere of Sera. The sound of the boom reached them well after the light from the fire had reached their eyes. Baird sagged against her.

"Not feeling so good," he said, his eyes closing.

"It's okay," said Sam. "We can go home now, right, LT?"

Marcus nodded. "Yeah, I'll call in the Raven."

"Okay, good. Hooray for our side," said Baird, and then he simply collapsed into Sam's arms. It was all she could do to stop him from hitting the ground, but she did.


	28. Chapter 28

Born on the Fourth Day of Bloom

AN: This is the end of this story. I hoped you've all enjoyed reading it. Thanks to my many reviewers, especially the ones who have stuck with this from beginning to end. I had no idea that this was going to be quite such an epic, but it's been fun to write.

* * *

Baird only remembered bits and pieces of the ride home in the Raven. His memory wasn't helped by the two seizures that he had in the Raven, or the fact that the drug Jannerman had given him was still in his system and still giving him visual and auditory hallucinations. He was fairly sure that it was also inducing a large dose of anxiety because he was suddenly afraid of his own shadow. When they got him to the Medical Centre on Azura, he was having a full on panic attack and the setting didn't make it any easier to deal with. Medical stuff just reminded him of hours of inescapable pain and despite his best attempts, he couldn't distinguish what was real and what wasn't.

He trembled and murmured his way through an exam, during which his blood pressure went through the roof and he ended up nearly hysterical by the time Hayman was done, despite his best attempts to not be. Finally, Hayman said screw the drug interactions, took as many precautions as she could, and gave him something which definitely helped take the edge off whatever had been in Jannerman's drug cocktail.

Sam was with him throughout the entire thing. She listened patiently to his explanations of how the walls seemed to be bleeding and the slightest sound of metal on metal grated like a horror movie soundtrack. She promised him that it was all in his head and he really believed her, unfortunately his brain's sensory input was hard to deny. At some point Cole joined her and between the two of them they reassured him enough that it was safe, and persuaded him that he could sleep. He woke up feeling much better and the constant trembling had stopped, which was a good sign. Although he still wasn't seeing the world exactly as it was, he could live with things being the wrong colours for a few hours when it was compared to serapedes carpeting the floors or watching hallucination-Cole blow his own brains out like poor, zombie Carl had done. He had enough nightmare fuel to last him for years in his head now, and somehow he'd have to learn to live with that, but according to Hayman he'd already been suffering from PTSD for years, so what was one more bad memory to add to the collection? Yeah, he was totally kidding himself with that one and he knew it.

With the hallucinations receding, he found that mostly he was tired, although his epilepsy was seriously out of control due to the extra drugs in his system and being denied his medication the previous day. Hayman wouldn't put him back on his meds until he was totally free of whatever Jannerman had been giving him, so he was going to be in the Medical Centre for a few days whilst Hayman got him back on an even keel again. He'd already had another seizure that morning, but after everything that he'd been through, it really wasn't so bad. He was tucked up in a warm bed, with his wounds disinfected and dressed, painkillers on tap, and he had his friends with him.

Baird was unbelievably grateful that he had Sam with him and that she was really, definitely alive. It wasn't another hallucination, which he'd actually contemplated for a moment back in the engineering lab. He'd really, really appreciated that when he'd woken up in the Med Centre she was there holding his hand and reminding him of where he was - although he was still finding it hard to make sense of his feelings about it and he wasn't totally sure that it wasn't the drugs clouding his emotions. For all he knew this warmth in his chest was a side effect of the come down, or it was Hayman's anti-anxiety meds, which were probably all still washing around his bloodstream.

While Baird had slept, Hayman had checked over Cole's leg and declared it to be healing nicely, so that was something positive. Apparently the medical attention that he'd received had actually been pretty good, which did sort of fit with what Baird had discovered about the other scientists working in Fort Kirnheim. They weren't all monsters like Jannerman. Some of them were just as coerced into working for Katia as Baird had been.

Sofia had also been admitted to the Medical Centre, but Baird had yet to see her. Like the other miners, most of whom were staying in Ostri for now, she'd been slowly starving to death. Hayman seemed pretty confident that she'd recover and just needed rehydration, rest and a few good meals. Baird wanted to see her, but Hayman wasn't letting him go anywhere, even down the corridor, until she could guarantee that his neurological activity was back to normal. His reunion with Sofia would have to wait.

Marcus eventually turned up to visit the following day, having done his big damn hero routine again and dealt with the remaining Soldiers of the Nation of Ostri. He'd spent some time questioning the scientists and prisoners, before returning with the remainder of the Strike Team.

"At some point Anya's going to want the full story of everything that happened after you were captured," said Marcus. "But it can wait a few days."

Baird didn't bother to hide his distaste for that. Debriefs weren't fun at the best of times and this would be hell to relive.

"Too right it can," said Sam, who appeared to be in over-protective mother-hen mode. "He's only just getting all the drugs out of his system."

Marcus gave Sam a slightly annoyed look but continued. "I _would _like to know how you managed to get the Hammer of Dawn to work without the control console, and how you managed to get it firing on target."

"I got lucky," said Baird. "Katia gave me all the data that she'd collected on the Hammer of Dawn and some stuff that Keller had stolen. I knew the firing codes and had a good working knowledge of the system. It wasn't that hard for me to hack into the system and get a good idea of where all the satellites were… and I knew that there was a convergence coming up over Ostri in a few days' time."

"Convergence?" asked Sam.

Baird nodded. "Yeah. It never happened when the system was working properly, but as the satellites got more out of alignment there have been moments when there have been four or five satellites overhead on slightly different trajectories. Like I said, I got lucky. They maybe happen once every six months. Without that, I couldn't have got any accuracy or kept it firing for so long. I definitely couldn't have told it to zero in on the control box."

"Or overloaded the system?" asked Marcus.

"Yeah, but I didn't destroy all the satellites. I just took out the firing mechanism. We can still use the cameras to monitor the weather and all that stuff," said Baird.

"I'd have prefered it if you'd asked me first before you took out our last remaining big gun," said Marcus.

"Hey, are you really telling me that you're okay with a malfunctioning superweapon orbiting Sera? And maybe we shouldn't be the ones to have it anyway. We kind of suck at being the good guys, in case you hadn't noticed, what with the secret bioweapons and the clone project in the basement," Baird pointed out.

Marcus shook his head but seemed to come to terms with Baird's decision. "You have a point. I guess it's too late to do anything now anyway. But some good came out of all this. Some of those Ostrian scientists were chemists and they worked at the Kirnheim chemical plant. They confirmed that there are chemical stock piles there and we should be able to retrieve them. We've finally got a hope in hell of getting a pharmaceuticals lab up and running that could provide medication for everyone that needs it."

"That's great news," said Sam.

Baird took a moment to take it in. "You mean I don't have to worry about my medication running out anymore?"

"Yeah, baby," said Cole. "Aurelie's already on the case and putting people to work. Those scientists are pretty damn grateful not to be under Katia's thumb anymore."

Baird wasn't sure how to feel about that. Of course he was grateful and pleased, but he'd been living for months with the idea that one day pretty soon he'd be too disabled to work or to even leave his quarters. It was hard to shake that off at the mere pronouncement of salvation. It would take time for it to sink in.

Then something reminded him that there was one person whose fate he hadn't learnt yet. His face fell.

"Did we get Jannerman?" asked Baird.

"Jannerman?" asked Marcus.

"He was the doctor…" Baird trailed off, suddenly finding himself unable to continue as he was assailed with unwanted images and memories. He felt the tremors run through his body and the heart rate monitor's tempo increase. "Damn it," he swore quietly as his body's fear response kicked in and he tried to get his breathing to slow down.

"He was the one who tortured you," said Marcus, blunt as always.

Baird managed to nod, but he was feeling his control over his body slipping away from him as an alarm sounded on the monitor. Hayman would be here to see what the problem was if he couldn't manage to calm down and he'd really like to go a day without being drugged to the gills. Sam got in his line of sight by grabbing his chin and pulling his head up so that his eyes met hers.

"Hey, you're safe on Azura now and I'm never letting you out of my sight again," said Sam.

Baird let out a small laugh. It was more from incredulity than because he found what she'd said funny. He was even more broken than he'd been when they left for Anvil Gate and Sam still wanted to be there for him. It was unbelievable that she'd think that way, and yet here she was.

"Yeah, same goes for me," said Cole.

"We look after our own," said Marcus, arms resolutely folded across his chest.

Bizarrely, for no good reason that Baird could discern, their reassurances helped and he found that he could feel his heart beat slowing and his breathing returning to normal.

"But you didn't get him?" asked Baird, after a final deep breath. He felt a little light headed, but Hayman hadn't made an appearance, so it probably wasn't reason for concern.

"We didn't take names, he might be one of the ones we took prisoner but we'll have to check everyone's ID," said Marcus.

Baird sighed. "Good luck with that."

Sam took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "It'll be okay. He's definitely not getting anywhere near Azura and the Hammer of Dawn is gone so no one's ever going to ask you to make that work again."

"No, they'll probably just find something else that they want me to fix," replied Baird. "Speaking of which, I've still got a fleet of Ravens that need reprogramming. We can't assume that the Ostrians were the only ones that got the memo about the back door in the engine control chips."

He lay back on his pillows, trying to get more comfortable. He was tired and he'd probably fall asleep again soon.

Marcus was nodding, but then added "yeah, but not until you're back on your feet."

Baird groaned as bright spots of light broke out across his vision. "Damn it. Sorry, my epilepsy is totally screwed up at the moment. I've lost count of what number seizure I'm on today, but it's about to be more. There's no point in you guys hanging around."

Sam just rolled her eyes. "Idiot. Of course I'm going to stay with you."

"Can't Hayman do anything?" asked Marcus.

"Not until all the other drugs have left his system," said Cole.

"Fruit pencil diorama box toys folder carpet," added Sam.

"Oh crap," said Baird, and once more lost awareness.

When he came round he knew from the sour taste in his mouth that he'd thrown up whilst he'd seized, and by the feel of his muscles, this had been a major episode. Sam was still there, although Cole and Marcus weren't. She was reading her book and hadn't noticed that he was awake.

"None of this would have happened if I hadn't fallen off that fucking roof," said Baird, looking at Sam.

Sam looked up at the sound of his voice, and was apparently unfazed by the opening non-sequitur from her boyfriend. "How do you work that one out?"

"Well for starters we wouldn't have found the Embry Labs when we did, so there'd have been no Chairman Prescott clone and Zeta squad would still be alive. Brand wouldn't have had a grudge against me and she wouldn't have brought Keller here to solve the crashed helicopter mystery. Keller wouldn't have been here to betray us and hand Cole and me over to the Ostrians," said Baird.

"Maybe, or maybe they'd just have found another way to get you. Katia always knew that you were here, she'd been listening to the radio transmissions the same as us," said Sam.

Baird shrugged. "I guess."

"You know, there is some other stuff that might not have happened if you hadn't fallen off a roof," said Sam.

"Yeah? And what would that be?" asked Baird.

"Well, Marcus only went on that boat patrol because you'd pissed him off, and he was the one who spotted the Ostri boat with Daniel Carmine on it. Clay wouldn't have got his brother back if Marcus hadn't been there and Daniel would have died. Then there's Cole and Aurelie. We'd never have needed a chemist if it hadn't been for you needing your epilepsy meds, so Cole wouldn't have met up with Aurelie again and the two of them wouldn't be at it like rabbits," Sam pointed out.

"Except we'd have needed drugs for other people at some point, so she'd probably have come to Azura at some point," said Baird.

"Or maybe she'd just have kept working in Gorasnaya."

"Okay, whatever, maybe Daniel wouldn't be alive and Cole wouldn't be getting laid. That doesn't really outweigh killing Zeta squad and getting Cole and me tortured. Oh and don't think I haven't noticed the bandages that you and Marcus are hiding. Should you even be out of the Med Centre?"

Sam just gave him a look. "I'm fine. If I wasn't then Marcus never would have let me go to Ostri."

"Liar," said Baird.

"Hey, Marcus was more badly injured than I was. You should have heard the argument he had with Anya. Those two could argue for Tyrus."

Baird smiled. "I'd loved to have been there for that." He wriggled to get into a move comfortable position and winced as his worn out muscles protested.

Sam was on her feet at the first sign of discomfort. "What's wrong? Do you need more painkillers?"

Baird shook his head. "The last thing I need right now are more drugs. I'm just achy from the seizure."

Sam was holding his hand and stroking his hair soothingly. It was kind of nice. He looked up and met her eyes.

"Sam, you're okay, aren't you? I mean, you're better and not hurting from whatever's under those bandages?"

"I'm a bit sore, but it's all healing nicely. If you're really good and behave for Doc Hayman then I'll let you play Doctors and Nurses with me when we get back to your quarters." Sam grinned.

Baird's eyes widened, and then he remembered that it would probably be another day at least before Hayman would let him out.

"I really, really wish I wasn't constantly stuck in this place." Baird indicated his general surroundings. "I've always hated hospitals, well, ever since I had my appendix out when I was eight anyway, and it's typical of my fucked up luck that I'd end up with a disorder that means I get to spend regular time in one."

"It's not that bad. If Hayman can get your meds balanced again then you should be fine. You'll just be back for check-ups," said Sam.

"Yeah, maybe," said Baird.

Sam looked a little exasperated by Baird's continued pessimism, but she seemed to decide to ignore it.

"You know there is one other thing that might not have happened if you hadn't fallen off a roof," said Sam.

Baird looked at Sam, puzzled. "Yeah, and what would that be?"

"Us," said Sam, and she leaned down to kiss him.

When she broke off, all Baird could manage was "uh". He decided to hide his inability to utter a coherent remark by pulling her in for a second kiss. He wasn't totally sold on the idea that they'd never have become an item without his fall, but he'd accept it as a theory and right now he was just happy to have her in his arms.

* * *

Cole had been damn happy to get back to Azura, and he'd been damn happy to get Baird back to Azura. All in all this was a good outcome, considering that at one point he'd been pretty sure that they were all going to die in whatever escape attempt Baird was able to hatch. He found Aurelie waiting for the Raven when it landed with him, Baird and Sam on board. Baird had been whisked off to the Medical Centre, with Sam keeping pace alongside him. Cole had decided that his buddy was in good hands and he had a few seconds to spare to greet his woman properly.

Aurelie knew that Cole would want to be with Baird, so she'd sent him off to the Med Centre once they'd said their hellos and pointed out that she had work to do. The scientists that were on their way from Ostri needed places to sleep and somewhere to work. Anya had asked her to take care of that, and it seemed a logical choice.

Cole eventually left Baird in Sam's care, after he'd had his own wounds looked at and been given the all clear by Hayman. Three days later, Cole was persuading Baird that he didn't need to head straight to the workshop, but he was allowed to go back to his quarters and rest. Three weeks later, he'd stopped Baird from drinking his sixth cup of coffee in a twenty-six hour period and reminded him of his working hours. Then he'd vetoed Baird's suggestion that Jack needed proper weapons rather than just a cutting torch, and if Baird couldn't carry a lancer anymore then Jack could carry it for him. Cole could see that ending very badly.

Things were slowly getting back to what passed for normal on Azura.

The pharmaceutical lab was getting up and running nicely. The Ostrian scientists were settling in well, despite some initial hostility towards them. They'd never found Jannerman, but Marcus had discovered a body out in the Kirnheim woods, near the mines, that was pretty much unidentifiable. It looked like whoever it was had unfortunately met with one of the local wolf packs, and been torn to pieces by the hungry animals. Baird was choosing to believe that it was his torturer and Cole was quite happy to go along with that. No one was mourning the doctor.

Clone Prescott was still around and was actually becoming a useful addition to Anya's command team. It turned out that Richard Prescott excelled at logistics and stock keeping. This made Anya very happy, and through a concerted diplomatic effort, she persuaded Gavriel at Anvil Gate that he didn't need to put Prescott on trial for war crimes. Surprisingly, Alex Brand helped her to get the desired result, and seemed to be turning into a useful liaison between the military and the civilians. Brand had returned to Anvil Gate to continue her duties there, but had left under much less of a cloud this time. Cole doubted that she'd ever really get on with Baird, but there was at least a grudging acknowledgement from Brand that she'd made a mistake.

The Ravens still needed reprogramming and Marcus eventually allowed Baird to take KR Eight-zero to Anvil Gate so that he could do the required work. This journey was a lot less eventful than their previous attempt, and Cole and Sam accompanied Baird to make sure he stayed out of trouble. They dealt with all the Ravens and returned to Azura without incident, although Sam and Baird argued pretty much constantly about Baird tiring himself out too much.

He was going through a concerted phase of pushing the boundaries of his working hours and Sam was distinctly unimpressed with this. Baird wanted to be able to do all the things that he'd done before his accident, but the reality was that he just had to slow down or seizures followed. Ten cups of coffee and late nights in the workshop inevitably led to a seizure, which then laid Baird out for half a day whilst he recovered. This was particularly annoying because when Baird didn't overwork himself, his medication seemed to have the seizures under complete control. The entire thing culminated in a blazing row that Cole was an unwilling witness to when Sam stormed into the workshop at 21:00 one evening in Gale. Baird should have left four hours earlier, but he hadn't because he'd been tinkering with his latest pet project, the jet engine that they'd removed from the crashed plane.

"Baird, get your arse out here," shouted Sam, as she stormed into the shop.

"Uh oh," said Cole, who'd already pointed out to Baird that he was working too late and Sam would be mad.

Baird was doing his best to hide behind the massive engine without much success. "Shit," he exclaimed. "How mad does she look?"

"On a scale of one to ten, I'd give her an eleven," replied Cole.

"Shit, shit, shit," said Baird, looking just a little scared.

"I'd get over there and beg for mercy if I was you," said Cole, smirking.

Baird wiped his hands on the nearest rag and headed out to meet his fate.

"What the fuck is wrong now?" asked Baird. Cole winced. That was not the best opening line.

"You damn well know what the fuck is wrong, you bastard," shouted Sam. "You were supposed to be in your quarters two hours ago and we were going to meet for dinner."

"Well excuse me for having to work late," Baird shouted back, waving an arm in the direction of the engine.

"You're not supposed to be working late on anything, you fucking idiot. Do you want to have a seizure?"

"No, but I'm not going to," said Baird.

"You arrogant arsehole," said Sam. "Hayman specifically told you that working too hard was the trigger for the last seizure. When are you going to get it through your thick skull that you have epilepsy?"

"I fucking know that I've got epilepsy. I live with it every day and I don't need someone to keep reminding me. Why are you being such a bitch about it?"

Cole winced again. This was actually kind of painful to watch.

"Because I care about what happens to you, you stupid arsehole, and I love you."

Sam snapped her mouth shut and there was silence for a moment. Cole could see Sam was looking like she'd just accidentally given away something important.

"What did you say?" asked Baird, taking a step closer to Sam.

Sam straightened up, clearly deciding to own her mistake. "I love you."

"You love me?"

Sam nodded. Baird closed the gap to Sam and kissed her passionately. Cole rolled his eyes. How had it taken this pair this long to actually acknowledge what was blatantly obvious to everyone else?

Baird broke the kiss first, but kept his arms wrapped around Sam. "I fucking love you too, Samantha Byrne."

Cole didn't hang around to see what happened next, he left as stealthily as he could through the workshop's back door.

The next day, Sam quietly moved into Baird's quarters, and no one said anything about the change of living arrangements. Baird also apparently to decide to work more regular hours and no one said anything about that either.

* * *

Baird found himself settling into a routine, one which he actually quite enjoyed. He'd co-opted a couple of the Ostrian scientists to help out in the workshop and they were taking some of the load off him. He was still busy, but he was getting better at telling people to go screw themselves if they wanted something done yesterday and he didn't have the manpower.

He and Sam had fallen into a sort of happy domestic bliss that he'd have never believed possible. They both suffered nightmares about his adventure in Ostri, but at least there was someone there when they woke themselves from whatever horror they were reliving. Even Baird could understand the need for physical contact after a nightmare and he would hold Sam until she fell asleep. Baird still wasn't really the touchy feely type, being self-sufficient was too ingrained in his psyche, but Sam would talk him through the come down and then would shuffle over and spoon behind him until they both fell asleep.

Sam was good for him, even helping pull himself out of a couple of bad patches of the depression that he was still prone to. Hayman reckoned he was stuck with that, but the two of them actually started working through some of the exercises in the book that she'd given him, and it helped. Sam was enthusiastic that he should at least try everything he could, and Baird acknowledged that her presence in his life helped just as much as all the therapy that Hayman could conceive. The seizures also persisted but were almost completely under control as long as he was careful with his stress levels, sleep patterns and working hours. Even the occasional seizure that he did have was less severe than the early ones he'd experienced.

Before he knew it, a full year had nearly passed and Bloom was approaching again.

"I want to celebrate your birthday," said Sam, out of the blue about a week before the actual day. She was in the kitchen, burning toast for their breakfast in a toaster that Baird had almost fixed. It toasted but it wasn't always terribly reliable when it came to temperature and timing.

"No," said Baird, without even thinking about it. He was going over an engine schematic, whilst eating the burnt toast.

"Oh, come on, Damon. Let's make some good memories to replace the bad ones," said Sam.

"No one even knows that it's my birthday," said Baird.

"That's because you've never told anyone. I only found out by accident."

"Yeah, and I like it that way," said Baird.

Sam sighed with defeat. "Well, why don't just the two of us celebrate?"

"We can't. Anya's planned a massive All Fathers celebration and everyone will be at that," said Baird.

"We can still have lunch together," said Sam.

"In the mess hall? Yeah, that's going to be really special."

"There isn't a romantic bone in your body is there?" observed Sam.

"I got you a birthday present," said Baird.

"You gave me a carburettor," said Sam.

Baird frowned. It hadn't actually really dawned on him until this point that a new carburettor for her bike might actually not be the most romantic thing to give his girlfriend.

"I thought you liked it." It was hard to keep the tinge of hurt out of his voice.

"Of course I liked it. It was just what I needed, and honestly I'd like a rock as long as you gave it to me. It just wasn't terribly romantic," said Sam.

Baird rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you picked the wrong guy if you wanted grand gestures of love and carpets of rose petals."

Sam smirked at that. "Clearly I need to give you a few lessons."

Then she'd rather pointedly changed the subject.

The fourth day of Bloom arrived and the weather was as good as any that Azura ever dished up. Almost everyone was getting ready for the All Fathers Day celebrations, but Cole made a point of dropping by the workshop to see how Baird was doing. Then Marcus did the exact same thing. No one actually said "so how do you feel about falling off a roof this time last year?" but he got the message that everyone was just a little concerned about him. He was aware of the anniversary but he didn't really feel anything about it. He wondered what they'd have done if everyone had known about his birthday too.

He found himself feeling a sense of trepidation when Sam arrived at the workshop at lunch time with a large basket and a blanket.

"What are you supposed to be? Little red riding hood?"

Sam just ignored him. "Come on, Baird, we're going out for lunch."

Baird shouted back to Brennan to look after things until he got back, and then Sam dragged him out of the workshop. She walked him along a path that was familiar, although he hadn't been this way for several months.

"The 'plane?" he asked. "We're going to the 'plane?"

Sam nodded and led him through the thick undergrowth that had come through in the growing season. The path had never been great but the rain over the winter had made it worse. Baird's slightly less strong left leg complained a little at the rough going, as it occasionally still did when he made it work hard.

"You okay?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, just my leg being annoying. I'll take some anti-inflammatories when we get back. It'll be fine." Baird didn't really let anyone apart from Sam know stuff like that. He'd much prefer that everyone thought that he was back to being fully fit, even though he still needed his goggles to read and he tired more easily than he did before the accident. He was fine enough that he could usually hide anything that didn't fit with being a hundred per cent, however the one person he just couldn't fool was Sam, and these days he didn't even want to try.

Sam smiled, and without a word, came over to him and supported him on his less good side.

"Sam, I said I'm fine," said Baird.

"Yeah, and this'll be quicker," said Sam, ignoring him.

Baird sighed and gave in. The two of them proceeded along the path and into the clearing where Baird found a surprise waiting for him. Marcus and Anya were sat on a log, chatting very quietly with Cole, who was leaning against the fuselage of the crashed airplane. Sat on the ground was Jace, with the two Carmine brothers.

"Sam!" said Baird with exasperation. "Please tell me that you didn't…"

"Hey, they're here!" shouted Cole.

Everyone turned to look at Baird and Sam as they properly entered the clearing. Sam was sort of pulling Baird along at this point, as he'd suddenly become rather reluctant.

Sam whispered so that only Baird could hear. "No one knows that it's your birthday apart from me and Anya. The others just thought you might need cheering up a bit, that's all."

Baird let out a breath. "Thanks, Sam."

"Hey, I know you, remember. You'll tell them when you're ready, but let's start building those good memories, hey?"

Baird nodded. One day maybe he'd grow not to hate the fourth day in Bloom, because he had a feeling Sam would be doing something like this every year from now onwards. And she was right, if he had enough good memories for this day, then the bad ones wouldn't matter so much. Even falling off a building could have its good points if this is what he gained from it. At this moment, as he was welcomed to the picnic by his friends, Baird knew that this island, with all its technological marvels and hidden secrets, was where he belonged. Azura had become home finally. Sam and Delta had made it that way.


End file.
